Venenum
by Koryanderi
Summary: Hermione travels for the year 1943. All she wants is to return to her friends, but her evasive attitude and behavior that breaks the standards of time, ends up arousing interest of Tom Riddle that soon turns into an obsession.
1. Prologue

**Hello guys!**

 **-Before reading, I want to make it clear that English is not my mother tongue, so forgive me for any error in the text. But I worked hard, so I hope it's legible for you.**

 **-At first it would be a Two Shot, but if you like, I can turn it into a story, so please tell me if you like.**

 **-The story and characters of the "Harry Potter" saga belong to the writer JK Rowling**

* * *

 _Prologue_ _-_ _Oxyuranus._

The tension was palpable in the Room of Requirement. The students and future Death Eaters looked at each other, sucking their breaths as they waited for their leader. They were accusatory eyes, wanting to find a culprit of why they were all there, yet everyone shared something: fear.

They could taste the fear in their tongues, they felt they heart hammer against their ribs, each beat was an affliction. The silence was so deep that a pin could be heard if it fell to the floor.

 _How bad will it be?_ They wondered. _Mercy. Who would not want to receive mercy in this situation?_

The door opened and _he_ came. The future Death Eaters cringed, watching that door disappear, leaving no means of escape. There were no windows, no doors or any way to escape. They were trapped. Trapped with death, torture, sadism embodying a boy handsome as an angel. An obscure and Machiavellian angel.

Tom Riddle came in like a hurricane, rage flickering across his face. He walked with firm and quick steps, his teeth sawing in frustration. He was just in his shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbow and the Slytherin's tie slightly loose, his sweater, gray blazer and robe far from visible.

The Knights of Walpurgis, seeing their leader's wrath, moved away, trying to stay out of sight of Riddle, but nothing and no one could save Alphard Black.

"Riddle..." Alphard begins, but is stopped by Tom, who pulled him by the collar of his shirt, slamming Alphard's back against the wall, then punching the pit of his stomach.

Tom, in all his psychotic and princely aura, watched his servant slide down the wall, placing his hand on his stomach to stroke the pain and falling in his knees. Through the strands of his hair, Alphard casts a glance and chin up defiantly, awakening Tom's berserk. Tom's hands tremble as he twists them into a fist, the strong, dark, vengeful magic revolves around him, there is a red light in his eyes. A bestial roar welled up in Tom's throat as he glanced at Alphard Black, any trace of coherence was lost and then he lunged at the boy. What came next was brutal.

Even Alphard - who have a brave, almost Gryffindor spirit - couldn't contain his screams. The sequence of punches on the face and kicks in the ribs, made him bewildered and unable to defend himself. In the room, it was possible to feel the angry magic of Tom, as if it were something alive and when Alphard tried to drag himself away, such magic intensified.

 ** _He would beg._**

 ** _He would not run away._**

Tom dragged him back by the legs and then punched him again. He gritted his teeth and must have done some spell, as irregular cuts opened in Alphard's face. Tom wanted to undo Alphard's face, because the image of him smiling at her, was still fresh in his mind and all he wanted was to make it impossible for Alphard to smile.

It would stay in his mind, that every time he tried to approach her, that would happen to him. And it would get worse and worse and worse. Then, it would have more blood and more blood and more blood.

Tom felt a fury so blinding that when a crack was heard, he seemed to awaken from his trance. _I broke something. What was? The nose? No, no. This one I broke when I hammered his face against the wall. Ah, the jawbone. You can't smile now, can you?_

He stood up slowly. There was a splash of blood on his face, on his shirt and blood on his hands, his knuckles were sore and Alphard's face was unrecognizable, yet it was still not enough.

He looked at his servants, watching intently the horrified and fearful features of them. Tom laughed out loud. He actually laughed as if this was the funniest joke he'd ever heard. An involuntary tear appeared in his eyes and he wiped it away before it fell, staining his pale face with more blood, and then he turned his eyes, which glittered in red, to Alphard, who was sprawled on the ground, making no move, except involuntary spasms and grunts of pain.

 _Treacherous him, eh? Trying to steal me right under my nose. How dare he try to take her away from me?_ Tom pondered. _Kill it or not kill it?_

Oh, how he'd like to squeeze his throat and see life coming out of him, watching his skin turn purple from breathlessness until nothing was left. It was tempting indeed, but the Black family is one of the most important connections he could have in the Wizarding World and also, it would be very bad to deal with another murder after what happened to Myrtle. This time there would be no Hagrid to blame, not that this was the problem, he could find another victim of his manipulations. The problem was all the work that would have to be done and well, he didn't have the patience for it. And by the way, this was a damn Black. Investigations would certainly be more meaningful simply because of the damn surname Alphard carried.

Tom put his hands on his waist and looked at the ceiling of the Room of Requirement. _Shit, I cannot kill him!_

He couldn't kill him, it wouldn't mean that he wouldn't give him a remembrance, a reminder. Tom then stepped slowly and hard on the fingers of Alphard's left hand. Alphard tried to make some sound, a cry of pain, but his broken jaw wouldn't let him do it and if he tried, the more pain he would feel.

Another 'crack' was heard, so everyone knew that, so everyone knew that Alphard's fingers were broken. However, nothing could be darker than the smile that Tom Riddle had on his face. After what seemed to be an eternity, Tom stops stepping on Alphard's fingers and gives a final kick to his stomach, indicating the end of the torture.

It was certainly ironic as The Dark Lord, a powerful wizard with his dark magic, chose such Muggle methods to torture someone. But he wanted to feel the blood on his hands. He drew back, his footsteps being the only noise in the Room, his servants were frozen, staring at the floor of the Room of Requirement as if it was the most interesting thing they had ever took his wand in the pocket of his pants and with a wave, the blood stains on his clothes, hands and face disappeared. He could not wander the halls of Hogwarts with bloodstains.

He glanced over his shoulder,

"Clean this mess," was an order, his voice in a cold tone, making his servants shudder. "I hope you have understood what happens when you practice Quidditch. Someone always falls off the broom. "

There it was, the lie everyone would tell. Tom left the details of the lie for them to handle. Without further ado, the door of the Room of Requirement appeared, Tom Riddle left.

When _that_ door disappeared again, they all went into hysteria.

* * *

 **Author Note :** **Oxyuranus microlepidotus is the scientific name of the most poisonous snake in the world. It is known as** **Western** **Taipan**


	2. Chapter 1 Pseudonaja

**-I would like to thank everyone who favored, followed and commented. I admit that I was a bit afraid to post in a language that is not mine, but I wanted to share the story with as many people as I could. And I was happy to know that I was able to produce the text in a way that you understood. So, thank you again for all the affection.**

 **-I would like to thank** **TheOneWhoMustNotBeNamed** **,** **Kag09** **,** **Guest,** **la canelle, w96m** **,** **Lucid babbles and Varanus salvator** **for the comments! And** **00353889 for the PM**

 **-Through the comments and private messages that were extremely sweet and that asked me to move on with the story, I decided to make it a multi-chapter story. I hope I do not disappoint you.**

 **-Before continuing, I want to make a warning about the character 'Tom Riddle': Tom Riddle has a complicated personality. He is probably sociopathic, egocentric, sadistic / masochistic, narcissistic (in various subtypes), manipulative and controlling.**

 **And I believe that if he got into a relationship, he would probably develop codependency, obsession, and possessiveness.**

 **So the maximum I can rate him for this story is as "anti-hero."**

 **-The story will be classified as Explicit / Mature. Due to future scenes of violence, blood and sexual.**

 **-I gave preference to put the scenes of the film, to cover to everybody. Due to the fact that there are people who only know the saga "Harry Potter" by the films. But whenever possible, I intend to put book references in the most explanatory way possible for all to understand.**

 **For those who have not read the books: I recommend it. It's a great book saga.**

 **\- The delay in releasing the chapter is due to the fact that I write in my mother tongue, then I translate it into English and try to correct any errors in the text, trying to make the text more readable for you. So I hope you understand the reason for the delay.**

 **-The characters and history of the "Harry Potter" saga belong to JK Rowling.**

 **-This is only the first chapter, a beginning. I hope it went well for me. Forgive me for any mistake in the text, English is not my mother tongue, but let me know so I can correct any mistake.**

 **Thanks again.**

* * *

 _Chapter 1. Pseudonaja_ _-_ _Time Turner_

 **1998**

Hermione was still standing, staring intently at the back of Harry Potter, who was making his way to his death. She took a deep breath, her chest aching and a lonely tear trickling down her cheek. Next to her was Ron. When Harry disappeared from their sight, both gasped, not knowing that they were holding their breath. Ron was the first to move, making the opposite way to Harry's, up to the Hogwarts stairs.

"We need to help him, Ron," she said.

"You heard what he said. We have to wait and kill the snake. "

Ron continued up the stairs, putting his hands in the pocket of his coat and in no time turning to look at her.

"He can't go. He's going to die!" Hermione said, a little desperate. "There has to be another way. We can't abandon him! He's our best friend!"

"I know, okay!" Ron finally turned to face her. His face held an expression that mixed anger and sadness. There were tears in his eyes and he struggled to keep them contained. His lower lip trembled. "I know," Ron murmured softly. His voice reflected sorrow for all the friends who had been killed, for his brother Fred and now for Harry Potter, his best friend. "I know," He repeated again.

Hermione ran to hug him tightly, holding like a life buoy, weeping in his arms.

"I just need to tell Ginny," He holds Hermione while hiding his face in the tangle of her hair. "She needs to know."

After a while, he released her and went upstairs. She sat up, tears streaming down her face as she tried to dry them with the palm of her hand.

Hermione was alone in the rubble of what once was the beautiful and magical staircase of Hogwarts and now it was nothing more except destruction, the dust and the smell of death. The pressure of the environment made her tense, making even her bag look heavy, the silence was making the sound of the wind seem ghostly. Alone, there, she was nauseated and weak, sad and desperate. Everything around her seemed dead and hopeless. And now, with Harry going to die, the gravity of the situation finally seemed to be too heavy to bear.

 _No!_

Hermione condemned herself for her faithless thoughts. She couldn't lose her courage now, otherwise, all the acts, the deaths, the time surviving, obliviating her parents, the sacrifices... Everything would have been for nothing. They can't give up now.

She lifted her gaze, determination shining in her brown eyes. Hermione wiped the traces of her tears from her face, she breathed heavily as she stood up, her genius mind starting to make a plan to kill the snake. She had to go to Ron. They had to kill the snake.

As soon as she took the first step up the stairs, she froze. Her breath caught in her throat and a shiver ran up her spine. Hermione swallowed, she slowly turned to the constant whispers in a strange tongue, rare even in the Wizarding World, resembling Harry's. Similar to **You-Know-Who.**

She screamed for Ron, asking for help, alarmed at what was going on there and all she heard was the echo of her voice. She squeezed Bellatrix's unyielding wand, seeking some security and ready to attack whoever was hiding. There was only one small problem, Bellatrix's wand didn't want to bow to her and was extremely demanding. Instead of her magic running smoothly, Hermione had to concentrate a lot on the spell she wanted to make. It was clear that she hadn't won the fidelity of the wand, and they simply didn't get along. It would be hypocritical to say that she had tried, but the truth is that Hermione hated this wand and apparent hatred was mutual. Which left her at the mercy of luck a little, if Bellatrix's wand decided to fail at the wrong time, Hermione would surely die.

Against all the basic principles of survival that sounded in her mind, Hermione made her way to the constant whispers in Parseltongue. Hermione might not know Parseltongue, but she was smart enough to understand that there was a complexity in what was being said and there were also her instincts that she learned to never neglect. With her wand in hand, she walked out of Hogwarts, attentive to the slightest strange movement. The night was cold and morbid and combined strangely with the destruction that Hogwarts was, almost like a funeral.

She would never ask a stupid question like 'Who's there?', screaming and denouncing her position. They were at war and only a foolish person would do such an unthinkable act. When she noticed where the whispers came from, Hermione swallowed. The hand that held the wand tightly was shaking now, she pointed the wand to the darkness of the Forbidden Forest.

Okay, maybe this should be the time when she should turn back and run, go back to Ron's arms and the Weasley family, be with her classmates and try to keep a cool head to plan the next step for the battle. However, this doesn't match her personality.

Hermione got a reputation of bossy for nothing. She was knowledgeable of the rules, perfectionist, linking to impose order and a little judgmental - almost always correcting people. The vast knowledge she had, combined with her intelligence, exceeded all expectations.

This side of her personality almost convinced The Sorting Hat to put her in the Ravenclaw, but there was the other side of her personality that made The Sorting Hat stand in extreme doubt.

Hermione remembers how the Hat took four minutes to decide which House she should be in. He seemed to quarrel with himself, almost as if he had known her before, and though he said that her brain was impressive, the part of her personality that was curious, determined, courageous and loyal seemed to catch the attention of Hat. In the end, she entered in Gryffindor and to this day she didn't regret where she was placed.

It was a fact that Hermione was a lover of the rules, but she lost the count

of how many rules she broke while she was with her friends. Even loving the rules, logic, and intelligence, the part of her curious and brave, always spoke louder. Like now, where her curiosity and determination made her enter the Forbidden Forest. That curiosity that made her have almost suicidal attitudes.

She knew there was danger. It could be the Snatchers, the Death Eaters or Voldemort himself, who might be stalking her, but Harry was there too.

The whispers stopped abruptly, Hermione clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes in the darkness of the forest. The silence became disturbing and whoever or whatever was there, was staring at her. Hermione could feel the attention she was receiving.

She squeezed her wand further, preparing herself. It's someone. It's someone!

Her eyes opened wildly and before she could make any move or cast a spell, the wand flew from her hand, heading into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. Her heart began to beat faster.

 _A non-verbal Expelliarmus!_ Whomever her attacker was, is someone powerful. A non-verbal spell is always very difficult to perform and requires mental discipline. Bearing in mind that the strength and speed with which the wand flew from her hand, whomever her attacker was, shouldn't be underestimated.

Before she could have a second thought, Hermione was hit by a green light and was upside down, as if an invisible hook had lifted her from her ankle.

 _Levicorpus_. She recognized fearfully.

In her upside-down view, she noticed someone approaching through the fog of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione narrowed her eyes in the hope that she could tell who it was that was coming toward her, her heart pounding against her chest and her affliction mixed with adrenaline, began to rise in the pit of her stomach.

She was released from the spell, banging against the ground and before she could even stand up completely, she was trapped in the spell Incarcerous.

 _After all, what did she expect? Courtesy?_ She snorted mentally at this thought.

Hermione finally looked at her attacker and instantly her skin froze.

Who is this person? She couldn't tell. There was a black robe covering the whole body of the person, leaving no idea to know if it was a man or a woman, but she assumed it was a man. The sleeves of the robe covered his hands, but they showed half the wand he held. But what scared her the most, was the face. The hood of the robe covered the head of the person, but the face... Where should be his face or partially a vision of him, was dark. Dark as if nothing was there. But she knew better.

Some kind of Charm, maybe? There was a face there, the person just wasn't willing to show it. It was a very realistic view of how the personification Death looked. He only lacked the scythe. Whoever it was, he approached her with calm steps with deliberate slowness, stopping just in front of her. This wasn't an ally, he was much more like a Death Eater in these clothes.

Hermione swallowed, refusing to feel fear and gave him a fierce look.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice sounding more confident than she actually felt.

Hermione would not ask something like 'What do you want?' for a Death Eater, because it was very clear what they all wanted. But she thought it fair that at least she knew the identity of her attacker if she was going to die now. She took a deep breath, soothing her heart that beat against her chest. She supposed that at the time of her death, she would feel more desperate or would cry, but she was frankly surprised that she was not feeling any of this right now. Maybe it was because she had no regrets. She fought bravely for everything she believed in, she protected her parents, she was recognized for her student efforts, she danced at the Yule Ball, she had true friends, she **kissed the boy she liked**.

Her attacker tilted his head to the side, analyzing her and Hermione could swear he was almost smiling behind this Charm of Darkness. She writhed on the ropes that held her as she watched him approach of her face. He was holding something in his left hand and she leaned back, trying to escape from his grasp.

He bent down, staying in her height - which was on her knees - his hands turned around her, trapping something around her neck. _A necklace? A medallion?_ Hermione couldn't say for sure, but she supposed it was a medallion because of the weight.

 _What the hell is that? A new kind of ritual of the Death Eaters? A collar to identify Muggle-borns?_ She didn't doubt that it was the last option, these people were very sadistic and liked to humiliate.

Then she heard a noise, like a roulette wheel, and he began to speak in Parseltongue again as he held the medallion. Hermione felt the beginning of the magic happening, he was quoting something for the medallion that was now tied around her neck. A spell.

Now she was starting to feel desperate. When he stopped, she stared intently into the darkness, this time, alarmed.

"What did you do?!" she asked furiously.

He didn't bother to answer and took her wand out of his robes. Or rather, Bellatrix's wand and put it in the pocket of her coat. He was given to her, her wand. Hermione looked at him like he was crazy.

So, he's on our side? A sound ' click' came from the medallion and she looked down, trying to recognize what was locked on her neck, but when the chords of the spell Incarcerous fell apart, she looked at him again. In seconds she was on her feet and pointing her wand at him.

"Who are you and what have you done to me?" Hermione asked deliberately slowly and dangerously. In a quick gesture, she took the medallion around her neck and looked. _A Time-Turner?_ "Answer me!" She demanded fiercely, trying to pull the medallion from her neck, but it seemed to be locked. The Time-Turner on her neck did another 'click' before turning again.

Hermione was about to cast a _Confringo_ when she heard noises in the forest. She looked at her opponent, waiting to see if he would make some noise and denounce their position.

She realizes that in no time he withdraws his wand and pointed at her, but she wouldn't trust in him, so she chose not to lower her guard.

When the noises grew closer, Hermione understood that she couldn't stay there. The Death Eaters are too close, probably hunting Harry and there will be many of them for her to deal, especially with a wand that refused to respond to her completely.

She retreats a few steps, never taking her eyes off the person in front of her, the Time-Turner does another 'click' and turns again and Hermione is agonized to get it off her neck. The noises get closer and closer and she retreats more, the person in the cloak does nothing to stop her. So she concludes that he was an "ally", but what he did to her, she has no idea.

Hermione takes one last look, before turning her back and running with all her breath. Time-Turner does another 'click' and spins again.

She is running in the Forbidden Forest with Death Eaters hunting. She's not the prey they want - they want Harry Potter - but if they catch her, they'd probably use it as a bargain in exchange for Harry and Harry would certainly accept.

The Time-Turner does another 'click' and Hermione is worried, she wants to stop it and pull it out of her neck, to analyze why this Time-Turner is making noise. Seems to be different and she's really scared of what this might mean. However, what makes her most angry is that the cord that holds the medallion is actually locked; stuck and doesn't look like it will open easily.

In the distance, she sees someone standing in a glade. _Harry? Harry! It's Harry!_

He's standing there alone and it looks like he's finished talking to someone. Hermione was surprised for a moment before calling him.

"Harry!"

He turns at the sound of Hermione's voice. Surprised, Harry is about to contest why she's here. She's not supposed to be here. Then he notices the movement behind her and starts to run towards her.

"Hermione!" He warns her of danger.

A Death Eater caught her by the hair, pulling Hermione. Harry picks up his wand and points at the Death Eater as he grabs her arm. The Time-Turner makes the last ' click', sucking all three.

 **It was like Apparating in the wrong way**. That's how she felt. They were spinning and spinning in a fall that seemed infinite. Hermione only felt that fall stopped when her body hit the ground. The impact made her sore and she was vaguely conscious of a few screams all around her.

The lightening of the sky in the afternoon, makes her eyes burn when she opens them. Hermione tries to stand up to know where she is, but she met with the sight of Harry being thrown for being the victim of an Expulso.

She crawls on the ground, picking up her wand as she realizes the Death Eater's intention to launch the _Avada Kedrava_ into Harry. Before that happens, Hermione uses a _Confringo_ , forcing her enemy to erect a shield.

Harry is unconscious and she is starting to feel dizzy, her vision is also starting to blur, but she will not give up.

 **o0o**

 **1943**

Tom Riddle looked serenely at Slughorn, pretending to pay attention to the explanation he gave about a potion, but internally Tom was yawning and bored. He hated Slughorn's long lectures, but he had to put up with it. Being the Head of Slytherin House, it was always good to have Slughorn as his ally.

He was counting the minutes for the potion class to end, when a wave of strong magic ran through the walls of Hogwarts. He glanced at the classroom doors, his classmates copying his movement. It was impossible that anyone had not felt this. The murmurs began, and Tom did not fail to notice when Slughorn held his wand. As a precaution, Tom also held his wand tightly.

Accelerated steps in the hallway were heard and the students got up from their chairs immediately. It was impossible for an attack to happen at Hogwarts, because the school was extremely protected, but you never know. Tom looked at his Slytherin companions, who were also on alert. Footsteps approached and then the doors opened with an audible thud.

"Professor Slughorn, Professor Slughorn ...!" He was a third-year student of Slytherin. "On the courtyard ... duel ..." He pointed out of the classroom, speaking breathlessly. "On the courtyard is having a duel!"

When the phrase was completed, the students rushed out to see, despite Slughorn's orders to stay. It was impossible to stop the students from good gossip, who soon left Slughorn behind. The hallways of Hogwarts were soon filled with students from other classes, all of them going in one direction, curious to see what was happening in the courtyard, ignoring the orders of their teachers.

As he came close to see, Tom saw a girl in strange clothes pointing her wand at a man who had an aura he knew from afar. Dark magic, this man was a dark magic user. The girl seemed to protect another person, a boy, who was lying down and seemed unconscious. She lifts a strong shield before casting the spell _Expulso_ on her opponent, who is thrown into the nearest wall. The sound is loud enough for everyone to hear and everyone gossips about what's going on. The girl limp to the unconscious boy, she kneels to try to check him.

Tom wonders if he should or not intervene in the situation. He basically wonders what he will gain if he helps the girl. Well, it was clear that it was the girl who was at a disadvantage.

In the end, he decides to go to the young woman's help. His decision has a bit of recklessness, but he assumes that being the best student in Hogwarts the attitude of helping a lady is expected from him. He also enjoys dueling and he will gain some more fame and Tom likes everyone to know that he is the best.

He goes toward the couple and as if by suggestion, the boy begins to scream, loud and horrible as if he were on the _Cruciatus Curse_. Oh, Tom Riddle knew more than enough about this unforgivable curse. She cries and tries to calm the boy, who seems to be convulsing. Tom frowned, realizing that the girl was very focused on the well-being of her friend and ignored her surroundings and her opponent, who now stands to attack her.

He points his wand at the strange man in black robes. He tries to control himself, Tom knows he can't use very dark spells with a crowd around him looking intently. He fights and takes into consideration that his opponent is good at dark magic, but he is better.

However, when a _Fiendfyre_ was thrown at him, Tom understood what kind of duel he was in. It's life or death.

For an instant, he considered what these two did in this kind of attack, but his thoughts were cast aside as the girl stepped in front of him. Protecting him. And this is the moment when Professor Dumbledore and Headmaster Dippet arrive, disarming the man and preventing the Fiendfyre.

His attentive eyes analyze the girl, realizing that there is blood in her strange clothes and that they were also dirty and torn. Her hair - if it can be considered hair - is more like a lion's mane. There are thin cuts on her face and she seems to be dizzy. She blinks several times as if she wanted to adjust her vision and before she can take a step, she faints, hitting the ground if he hadn't caught her at the last minute. Tom looks at her for a moment, before his attention turns to the boy screaming in agony. He realizes that there is a lightning bolt shaped scar on the boy's forehead that was healing and maybe this was the pain cause.

Tom holds the girl as he looks at Dumbledore and Dippet.

* * *

\- **Pseudonaja textilis is the scientific name of the Oriental Brown Snake. The second most poisonous snake in the world.**


	3. Chapter 2 Bungarus

**I would like to thank everyone who favored, commented and gave kudos. Thank you very much.**

 **Thank you** yarnybear , la canelle, Katrina Diaz, JOUNOUCHI sama , Werewolfs-team, BQueen, Lady Kaliska , NatTheOne, and ElenaSliverstone **for the comments and the affection.**

 **Remembering that English is not my mother tongue, but I worked hard, so I hope the text is readable to you. Let me know if the text is good. Or if I need to fix something**

* * *

 _Chapter 2. Bungarus __-_ _Time travel_ _._

 **1943**

Hermione awoke, feeling her head throb. She placed a hand on her temple in a pacifying gesture to relieve her headache. As soon as her eyes adjust to the light, she rises abruptly as she recognizes where she is.

 _Hogwarts. I'am in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing._

She noticed that they changed her clothes and now she was dressed in flannel pants and a shirt - hospital pajamas - with the Hogwarts emblem on the left side of the shirt. Getting out of the bed, she looks around, a little surprised and startled to realize that nothing was destroyed as she remembered. The Wing was empty and clean.

 _The school was rebuilt. Did we win the war? Great Merlin, we won the war!_ The happiness she feels is extreme. Hermione never felt so happy. They had won the war, otherwise, she would be dead.

Without thinking twice, Hermione left the Hospital Wing, running through the Hogwarts corridors, down to the third floor, looking for her friends. The paintings move, hiding from her, sometimes gossiping about her and she doesn't care. She doesn't care about her clothes or how her hair is or the fact that she is barefoot. All she wants is to see Harry, Ginny, Luna, and all the others. She wants to see Ron, wants to hug him and feel his arms around her. Kiss him again. They had finally declared their love for each other.

Hermione enters the first classroom that she sees, opening the doors loudly in the hope of finding someone to tell her where her friends were. The smile on her face was slowly undone. The faces of several students turned to face her, they whisper as they look at her. Hermione frowned, shaking her head slightly, not believing what she was seeing. She didn't know any of these people.

"What...?" Hermione doesn't understand. What is going on? She asks herself.

Hermione puts her hand on her head, trying to appease the throbbing pain in her head that starts again, clouding her vision and echoing in her ears. Something is wrong. She turns and walks, bumping into someone.

"Forgive me, miss." The voice is masculine.

Hermione raises her gaze and exhales the breath that was trapped in her lungs. She was surprised at what she sees.

"Sirius ...?" Her eyes fill with tears. _This is Sirius Black? He looks a lot like Sirius._ The hair, the eyes, the face. He's just clearly younger.

Hermione is confused and doesn't notice the boy's glare. He looks at her from top to bottom, noticing the clothes she wears and the slight blush takes care of his cheeks.

"My lady, take this. I don't think it's right for a lady to walk the Hogwarts corridors in such clothes." He hands to her the Slytherin robe, putting it on her shoulders. Hermione accepts, still very confused and surprised by how much this young man looks like Sirius Black to refuse, following every move he makes, with her eyes.

Galatea Merrythought class students lurk, putting their heads out of the classroom door, looking at the strange girl who has invaded the classroom with curiosity. The noises of Professor Galatea's shoes wake Hermione from her trance by the young man who looks so much like Sirius and in a swift movement, she turns and grabs the teacher's arms.

"Who won the war?" Hermione demanded, shaking the Professor Merrythought. Hermione's hair is wild, giving her a fierce appearance, the desperation in her voice is remarkable. Behind the teacher, the most handsome young man Hermione has ever seen, approaches in a very suspicious manner and in Slytherin robes.

Professor Merrythought's eyes widen in surprise when Hermione mentions the word 'war'.

"My dear, were you at the war?"

"Yes!" Hermione replied quickly, glad to have found someone who understood what she was saying. "So, did we win the war?"

Professor Merrythought's gaze softens and she comforts Hermione with one hand, making Hermione walk next to her.

"Mr. Black, you're late for class. Enter the classroom immediately and wait with the other students, I will accompany this young woman to the Hospital Wing."

In reality, Merrythought didn't have to accompany Hermione, because the matron Olga Derwent was running down the corridors, looking for her missing patient. Hermione was advised to return with Mrs. Derwent to the Hospital Wing. Everyone was treating her like a fragile doll.

 _Where is Mrs. Poppy Pomfrey?_

Unaware, Hermione let herself be taken to the Hospital Wing, much more for the headache she felt. Before following the path, Hermione glanced over her shoulder, looking at the handsome boy who was looking at her curiously, beside him was the young man who looks like Sirius and another, blond as ... Draco?

Sitting on the bed in the Hospital Wing, Hermione waits, her mind working to understand what's going on. _Maybe it's my mind playing with me, it would not surprise her if she was going crazy and imagining all this. Not really._ In fact, she could be very well at Malfoy Manor, being tortured by Bellatrix and to relieve her despair, her mind is joking with her. This has happened to other people.

"My young lady, I am Olga Derwent, the matron of Hogwarts. I've been taking care of you." Derwent speaks calmly and passively as if Hermione were some kind of wild animal.

"Where is Mrs. Pomfrey?" Hermione dares ask. She is afraid to know the answer.

"Who?" Mrs. Derwent frowned, confused.

Hermione narrows her eyes, swallowing hard. As she tries to ask a question, the doors of the Wing open, Dumbledore enters. When Hermione sees Dumbledore, her eyes open wildly, not believing the image she sees.

 _I'm crazy._

"Headmaster Dumbledore?" She murmurs. Dumbledore stops, looking at her with those smart and slightly curious eyes.

"I think you mean 'teacher.' Do you know me, child? "

" Yes, it's me, Hermione Granger! You don't remember me? "

"Child, how did you manage to overcome the school's Anti-Apparation spell? "

When Dumbledore narrows his eyes, Hermione freezes, she doesn't understand at first what is happening. The pain in her head increases as the flashes of memory begin. She begins to remember what happened, in a reflective gesture, Hermione touches her neck, feeling the locket trapped. Her breathing accelerates.

"Harry. Where's Harry?! "

"The boy who was accompanying you? "Dumbledore asks and Hermione confirms, suddenly very tense. "I am afraid to say that he was sent to 's, our dear Mrs. Derwent could not help him from the kind of coma he entered. I must say I've never seen anything like it. "

But will he be okay?" She is frightened and Dumbledore noticed.

"That, young lady, only time can tell."

Dumbledore also notices how pale Hermione is and how his words seem to affect her. He narrows his eyes, trying to decide whether she is friend or foe and what the reasons for her abrupt arrival. His gaze falls to the locket that young lady uses and he feels the magic radiating from him. It is strong, suggestively protective and can be very well dark magic.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore says, attracting Hermione's attention, which seemed momentarily lost. "I'll give you some time to get yourself in order and I'll wait for you in my office. Headmaster Dippet is currently waiting for the Aurors, who are seriously interested in your arrival. "

" Aurors ...?" There's a little alarm in Hermione's voice.

"I dare say, my young lady, that your arrival with your friend warned the whole witch community. The Ministry of Magic certainly sent the Aurors to find out what happened," Dumbledore explained, watching her swallow.

Without much else to say, he nods before turning around and leaving. Hermione stands there, alone. She puts her hand to her mouth in a clear gesture of concern. Matron Derwent came shortly thereafter, carrying the neutral Hogwarts female uniform with none of the colors of the Hogwarts Houses.

Hermione is quick to dress, she has no time, she needs to talk to Dumbledore before the Aurors reach to her. Her hands are shaking, but she doesn't really care. She needs to stay calm so she could get out of this situation. She is afraid of the question she will going to make to Mrs. Derwent. Her lower lip shakes, her heart beats hard against her chest and she takes a deep breath, her legs are like jelly, trembling with fear.

"What year are we?"

"1943, my dear." Mrs. Derwent replied, for a moment, the matron thought that the girl had a concussion or loss of memory.

The matron observes the expression of terror that takes care of Hermione's face, her eyes widen and her skin turns pale and for a moment, she thought the girl might faint. In the blink of an eye, Hermione grabs the locket trapped around her neck as if such an object was choking her. Without thinking twice, she tries to turn the Time-Turner's hourglass, but is locked. Impossible to turn.

It was an unthinkable act of despair. In her defense, she would never have turned the Time-Turner in her right mind, but in her situation, all she felt was the terror of being in the past.

Dumbledore. She needed to talk urgently with Dumbledore.

Mrs. Derwent makes sure that Hermione stays a little longer in the Hospital Wing so she calms down before she finds Dumbledore, but Hermione doesn't want to wait. She can't wait.

As she walks along the halls, Hermione thanked them for being empty. The students were still in the classrooms or in the courtyard. She only stops when she stands face-to-face with the door of the Transfiguration teacher's room. She takes a deep breath and when she closes her fist to knock on the door, the door opens itself. Hermione enters slowly, with soft steps, looking at Dumbledore, who was sitting at his desk, reading a stops in the middle of the room, Dumbledore still has not taken his eyes off the book. Silence sets in and the only noise that can be heard is the ticking of the clock. At a glance, Hermione notices the crimson red of the bird's feathers. He flies around her before finally be on his perch. The size of a swan, the Phoenix opens his wings to her and nods in acknowledgment.

"Fawkes!" Hermione smiles, walking toward the perch. The last time she saw the Phoenix, Fawkes had left Hogwarts. The bird's black eyes watch her as he tilts his head to the side. Recognizing Hermione's pure heart, Fawkes lowers his head as if bowing, introducing himself.

Dumbledore watched with fascination Fawkes' interaction with the girl. He knew that Fawkes was an extremely intelligent bird, able to see good and evil in people. Those who wanted to do good and those who wanted to do evil. Being a great judge. Then, watching Fawkes be so inclined to accept the young lady, removed the initial mistrust he had.

Dumbledore made a sound in his throat, drawing Hermione and Fawkes's attention. Gently, he said:

"Lemon drops, Miss Granger?" He offered. She refuses.

Hermione takes a deep breath and runs her tongue through her dry lips. She does not know what to say to Dumbledore, but he needs to know that she is not an enemy.

"Headmaster Dumbledore... I mean, Professor Dumbledore." She begins, remembering that at this time, Dumbledore was a teacher. She glances at her hands clasped, without the courage to face him. "I'm not evil," she says. "I don't want to hurt you or someone. Not even my friend. What happened was an accident. We don't know how we got here, we were running away and ... And we got caught- "

"This is a very interesting locket, Miss Granger. "

Dumbledore is closer to her. Slowly, Hermione raises her gaze to face him. She feels his fingers pick up the locket that's stuck around her neck.

"A Time-Turner?" It's not really a question, it's more a statement. Dumbledore looks at her over her half-moon glasses, raising an eyebrow. "They are controlled by the Ministry of Magic. However, this seems a little different, isn't it? "

"He's stuck. See?" Hermione tries to turn the Time-Turner's hourglass right in front of Dumbledore, but she can't. "We didn't want to use it. Merlin knows we did not want to go back fifty-five years into the past."

"If the Ministry of Magic knows about the illegal use of a Time-Turner, you will go to Azkaban. If what you say - going back fifty-five years - is true, you and your friend will be in big trouble. "

"I need to help my friend and try to find a way to back home. "

"You'll have to be careful what you're doing here, young lady. Messing with the past can bring consequences for the I suppose the future is not so safe, is it? Who was the man who attacked you? "

Hermione knew that Dumbledore probably had a notion of what was going on, but maybe he wanted to hear it with her words.

"I don't know him. Not really," she says. "He is one of the many who defend the purity of blood and the death of Muggle-borns. What happened? "

"This man was accused of practicing the Dark Arts, with no scruples in using the unforgivable curses. He claims to be Edmund Pyrites. The Pyrites family denies any involvement with him, the Ministry of Magic believes he is a helper of Grindelwald, for his ideological similarities." Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. "He was sent to Azkaban."

"Professor Dumbledore, please..." Her voice is suffocated by the tears she tries to contain. "Help us."

She feels Dumbledore's forefinger and thumb on her chin, raising her face so that he could see her eyes. In the brown color of her eyes, Dumbledore sees suffering, sadness, despair, and truth, plus a fierce glow of determination.

"I believe we had the honor of meeting in the future, I presume."

Hermione blinked, confirming. He runs his fingers back through the locket tied around her neck and narrows his eyes to the letters around the circle that holds the Time-Turner. In a swift movement, he hides the locket in her sweater, before the door opens. Hermione gasped as she saw Dippet with the two Aurors, a man, and a woman, respectively.

"Dumbledore, I see you're already with the intruder," Dippet says, looking closely at Hermione.

"I'm afraid there's a misunderstanding."

"Mr. Dumbledore, I'm Leeza Zabini and this is my partner, Ronan Travers." Hermione swallowed, as the dark-haired lady with almond-shaped eyes introduced herself. If she depended on the help of a Zabini and a Travers, Hermione would already be stepping on the entrance to Azkaban. "We were sent here to ascertain the magical disturbance that the arrival of two young people caused and obviously their involvement with the self-declared Edmund Pyrites, who is imprisoned in Azkaban for practicing the Dark Arts."

"This young lady" Dumbledore puts a hand on Hermione's shoulder "Was in contact with me for some time before her arrival from France. Grindelwald's recent attacks forced her and her friend to move and I offered shelter. In fact, they arrived earlier. I hoped they'd get to the Hogwarts Express next semester to start their sixth-grade classes, but the war seems to have caused an unexpected."

At every word of Dumbledore, Hermione's eyes burn, she tries to keep her composure and her tears, but she cannot hold it and finds herself crying when realizing that Dumbledore is not only saving her life, but also Harry's.

"Forgive me, Dippet, I should have told you before. The disturbance we felt in magic was caused by a Portkey. "

"And the dark wizard who was with you?" Leeza Zabini directed her question to Hermione.

"He attacked us. He tried to kill us. He grabbed us when we were about to be transported." It wasn't a lie at all. In fact, this really happened.

"Why was he chasing you?" Travers asked.

Feeling a kind of judgment, Hermione knew she needed to give credible information that would satisfy the Aurors. She had to give a personal information that matched the reasons for being pursued, it wasn't the information that would change everything, yet it was special enough for her to have a sense of the game she was playing now.

"Because I'm a Muggle-born," she murmured. Her voice sounded cold.

Hermione noticed the slight wrinkling of Zabini's nose, just as she noticed she lifted her upper lip slightly. Disgusted. An expression of disgust.

Corrupt. Corrupt Aurors. How in their right mind did they dare say defenders when they shared the same ideals that led the war? But not for a moment Hermione was fooled. She expected nothing less than a Zabini.

Leeza Zabini glared at Hermione, ready to take any lie Hermione had said. Her gaze went to Dumbledore. He was an exceptional wizard and influential in the wizarding world. He is Albus Dumbledore. Who would accuse him of lying?

"I understand." She eased her gaze. "But we'll take the Portkey that was used. He will be taken to the Department of Magical Transport and will be destroyed. "

Dumbledore removed his hands from Hermione's shoulders and headed toward his desk, from one of the drawers he took out a letter opener. Carefully, he handed Travers the Portkey.

"Was with her, as a precaution, I kept with me until the gentlemen arrived." Dumbledore lied. Hermione noticed how Travers looked at the letter opener, hoping it was somehow special. Confirming, Travers turned to Zabini.

"Before you go, I would ask that the condition of our new students be kept confidential," Dumbledore asked, aware of the exchange of looks between Zabini and Travers. "In the face of recent events and ideological positions, we wouldn't want Miss Granger and her friend to suffer more. "

It wasn't really a request and couldn't even be considered a threat, it was more for warning that if the information on the situation of Hermione and Harry leave this room and fall in the wrong mouths, he would know whom it spread.

"Of course, Mr. Dumbledore. Our duty is to protect. We understood the delicate situation. "

It was understood that the Ministry didn't want any more confusion than what was going on. Dumbledore knew that they would protect Hermione's "secret", because from the moment that people knew that Grindelwald's followers were hunting muggle-borns and apparating inside of the school, chaos would be installed. It would be impossible to withstand the pressure of the people and the Daily Prophet would love to spread such information. Completing with Myrtle Warren's death before the vacation, the students' parents certainly asked Hogwarts to be closed.

"I will accompany the Aurors, I hope I have the opportunity to talk to Miss Granger later. "Dippet says, leaving with the Aurors in the room of the Associate Headmaster and Transfiguration teacher.

Hermione smiled at Dippet before he left, noting that he did not look like a bad person. In fact, he could certainly remember someone's gentle grandfather, just by the way of speaking.

"Thank you," she murmurs to Dumbledore. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore." Surprising Dumbledore, she hugs him and Fawkes, on his perch, tilts his head to the side, watching.

"Would you like to stay for tea, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore offered. "Maybe we can talk more about what happened."

Hermione accepted with a smile, the first smile she has given since everything happened. A little quieter, she sits in one of the armchairs and watches as Dumbledore serves tea on a coffee table, Fawkes is distracted on his perch, wiping his crimson feathers with his beak.

He sits in the armchair in front of her, after giving her the tea-cup and serving some biscuits. It's a cozy, warm feeling as if someone had put a blanket over her shoulders, the calm and peaceful environment she missed. Hermione knows that this feeling won't last long, after taking a deep breath Hermione raises her gaze.

"I don't know where to start and admit I'm afraid," she says. "Not afraid of you, far from it, but I'm afraid of what I'm doing. I'm scared to be in the past with my best friend at St. Mungo's and how that leaves us. If all the books I've read about time travel are correct, I'm afraid of what I should do or talk about. Certainly, it was not like in the third year when I used a Time-Turner to be able to watch many classes as I could. It's a lot more complex than that. "

She pauses, taking a deep breath, watching Dumbledore's reaction. Hermione runs her tongue through her lips because they are dry again and it is also a pacifying gesture for the anxiety that begins to emerge in her.

"In the future... There will be a war. A war that many says is worse than this, which is happening now. A dark wizard will appear, probably more powerful than Grindelwald and everyone will be afraid to say his name. He shares an idea similar to Grindelwald's, which is the extermination of the Muggle-borns and the Muggles. He propagates the ideals of pure blood . Nothing can stop him, no Aurors, no laws, no Ministry, except my friend, who was sent to St Mungo's and I care a lot about him. Harry, perhaps, can be considered the heart of the whole problem and also, the only thing that prevents this wizard from taking control of the wizarding world. Before we got here, we were in what could be considered the final battle." Hermione clasps her hands together. "It was us or them. It was to fight for what we believed. We've seen friends battle with us, sacrifice themselves and die for what they believe."

She looks intensely at Dumbledore.

"We had to flee, hide and fight. Before we came here, I believe one of the followers of this dark wizard activated Time-Turner with some kind of spell I'm not familiar with. I ran, fleeing, into the Forbidden Forest, trying to find my friend Harry, when another follower pulled me through the hair. Harry went to my aid and Time-Turner fully activated and brought us into the Hogwarts courtyard and then, you know what happened."

Hermione tries to find the best words to continue.

"I know that if I say the name of this dark wizard, you can probably defeat him and it's probably the right thing to do, but ...What's going to happen when we get back? If I say, how much of what Harry and I know can change, Professor Dumbledore? "

"This is a delicate situation, Miss Granger. I certainly understand your affliction. In fact the idea of being able to avoid future conflicts is tempting, however, I dare say that a simple disturbance in the timeline is crucial to existence. Some believe that even interfering, whatever has to happen, will happen. And that nothing can change what is marked to happen, so is destiny. However, others say that if a time traveler moves a simple glass of water from the place, a chain of events will happen and may even threaten existence itself. I'm afraid I've never seen anyone travel so long into the past. "

"So you think I should let things happen, even though I have the power to change the future? "

"My advice to you, Miss Granger, is for you to be very careful about what you do here... Not only for the timeline, but also for you and your friend's life. If the information that you are from the future falls on the wrong ears, you will be in great danger. Both, by the Ministry, and by a dark wizard. "

"You mean Grindelwald." Hermione deduces and Dumbledore confirms. "It's really annoying to have to run away from dark wizards."

She says seriously, but soon she opens a smile that turns into a laugh and against all seriousness of the conversation, Dumbledore also smiles, sharing the sense of humor. Hermione wipes a tear from her eyes, still laughing, but another soon fell as well and then another and another. Dumbledore had already stopped smiling, realizing that the girl was crying and hiding her crying in her laughter.

"I'm sorry," she says, wiping her tears with her hand. "It's just that it's so hard." She sniffs. "But I'm very happy to see you again."

Although not apparent, Dumbledore understands the suggestion behind the choice of words she uses. Of course, he will not question her for more information, but he notes the drastic change in the mood she has. Remembering something, Dumbledore gets up from his chair and goes to his desk, from his drawer he removes two wands and a purse.

"I believe this is yours and your friend's." He offers her the two wands and the bag.

"Our wands!" Hermione takes the wand that was Bellatrix's and Harry's.

When she touches Bellatrix's wand, she feels the magic and also a flash of rejection. It's like the real owner, a crazy wand, snobbish, racist and as if to say 'do not touch me'. Hermione doesn't know if she can give such adjectives to a wand, but there is no better way to describe it. Angry, she grabs the Bellatrix's wand, feeling the rejection, she begins to bend that wand that was already slightly curved, but Hermione bends her even more - dividing the wand in two. Finally, breaking it. Dumbledore watches the scene cautiously, watching closely the attitude of the young girl.

Hermione looks at Dumbledore.

"This wand shouldn't be used by anyone. You have no idea what the real owner did with that wand." She tries to justify herself and Dumbledore accepts, still looking at Hermione as she tosses her wand into the fire.

She sits down in the armchair again, this time touching Harry's wand.

"This is my friend's wand," she explains, running her finger through the wood.

Harry's wand responds to it as if it says 'I know you. It's a friend.' and responds to Hermione's magic by accepting her. It's not as if the wand was abandoning Harry, it's like he knew that at this point he needed to join forces with Hermione until his real owner arrived. Hermione does not think a wand has no understanding, on the contrary, if a wand does not understand what is happening, how would they choose their wizard? Is there a better example than the Bellatrix's wand, who hates and refuses to obey her? The wands understand in their own way and at this moment, Harry's wand understood that it was better to stay with Hermione and await the return of his owner. And luckily, the wand lets Hermione's magic run smoothly, serving as a filter and control.

Then Hermione picks up her beaded handbag, which had all the things needed for survival, as well as some books and some galleons. She breathed in relief.

"What happened to Harry?" She asked worriedly.

"You two collapsed after the battle in the courtyard and were unconscious for three days. Your consciousness was coming and going, but you responded to Mrs. Derwent's healing, your friend apparently went into a deep coma, which our beloved matron could not help. We prefer to send him to St. Mungo's. "

"Do you think he will recover? "

" I'm sure the mediwizards will do all they can to help him. "

" Will I be able to visit him?"

" As soon as possible. "

" Professor Dumbledore ... Can we stay here? You know, until we get a way back to our time? Hogwarts is our home and the only safe place we know. "

"Of course, my young lady. Hogwarts will be open for you and I will help you with everything I can. You've been to Hogwarts, haven't you? "

" Gryffindor. "Hermione laughed, drinking some more tea and Dumbledore smiled to find someone from his House.

"I'm afraid to say, Miss. Granger, we're in the final exam for the vacation, it's fair to you to take part of them to keep up appearances. Tonight, at dinner, you will participate in the sorting of the Sorting Hat. A little unusual, a student transferred to participate in the classification shortly before the vacation and this will not go unnoticed, but this cannot be helped. "

"I understand, Professor. "

 **o0o**

After talking with Dumbledore, Hermione felt a little more relieved and safe; Surely there was no better place than Hogwarts and close to Dumbledore, so she would find the answer of how to get back to her time - the future. Even if she had to go through all classes again, she is safer here than outside.

In fact, she is even quieter now, as she watches from above the setting sun between the clouds and the Forbidden Forest.

She walks toward the Hospital Wing because she remembers that she left the Slytherin robe that the boy so much like Sirius lent to her. A Slytherin loaning something? She could almost laugh at that thought if wasn't true. But she supposed it had something to do with chivalry from the 1940s.

With her handbag in her hand on one side and holding and Harry's wand in the other, Hermione enters the Hospital Wing, Mrs. Derwent's eyes are expectant when she sees her. Nothing of Mrs. Pomfrey, she thinks with regret, but knows that for now, she has to get used to it. Mrs. Derwent smiles at her when she confirms that she will be a new Hogwarts student, Hermione tells the whole story that was invented by Dumbledore. Certainly, it's better to keep a single version of the story invented. And Mrs. Derwent very sweetly says she is sorry for Hermione and her friend were coming from the war, saying something like _'People are not as they used to be. You see, the whole world is at war. What is the need for wars?_ '. It's something that all doctors, Muggles or Wizards should think about.

Oh, if she knew that in the future would have a worse war. Hermione thinks.

Hermione asks her for the Slytherin robe that she left here and with a smile, the matron gives to her the robe, but she has little time to pay attention to Hermione, because two first-year Hufflepuff students came in, one of them sure was successful hit by a Pimple Jinx or in other words, Furnunculus. As they pass by, their eyes widen, something between frightened and admired. _I'm probably the school gossip._

She smiles at them because they look cute with that childish hairstyle of the 1940s and now, they are delighted with her.

With the Slytherin robe in her hands and wand, Hermione throws a Scourgify, not because the robe is dirty, but she thinks it is polite to deliver the clean robea and all she the least wants is enmity, especially with the Slytherins. These, who love a good mess. If she wants her and Harry's existence to remain neutral in the past, she has to avoid being the center of intrigue. After the robe is clean, she folds it.

She doesn't know where she'll find the boy and she certainly won't go to the dungeons to wait, Merlin free her to be near of this place. However, Hermione is certain that at some point she will find him.

Now, walking in the halls of Hogwarts, students are looking at her as they are on their way to the Great Hall for dinner. They whisper and Hermione know it's about her, the voices in her back. She got used to it, either because it was a mudblood as the Slytherins loved to say or because of the adventures she had with Ron and Harry. Somehow it's strange to experience the style of the '40s, it does not really fit on her. The boys with gel hair and the girls with a haircut would summarize in a pin-up style. All of them with an air of which they were perfect. It just does not fit on her.

For her luck or misfortune, she finds the boy who was looking outside the door of the Great Hall with a group of Slytherins talking, probably all from the same year.

 _Don't go there. Don't go there. Don't go there_. She repeats like a mantra in her head. Never walk alone towards a group of Slytherins, but there is a lot of Gryffindor courage in her to be able to ignore the advice of her own mind.

He has his back to her as she walks toward him. A blond boy soon looks at her, narrowing his eyes at her sudden approach. When she's close enough, she makes a sound with her throat, trying to attract attention. I do not need to talk to others, I just need to hand over the robe.

"Hello, princess, what can I do for you?" The blond takes a step toward her, a side smile on his face.

"Rosier, please don't scare the girl." The most handsome boy she saw says. She vaguely remembers him.

The blonde, Rosier, snorts and retracts a few steps, raising his hands.

"Yes?" The boy who looks like Sirius now turns to her, staring at her intently.

Hermione takes a deep breath, she is more mature than that. Wiser than playing with teenagers.

"I ... I'd like to give you this. Thank you for helping me earlier. I appreciate it," she says, looking into his eyes and handing over the robe. It's just strange how much he looks like Sirius.

"You're welcome." He smiles, in a flirtatious way almost as if flirting with her. "Alphard Black, at your service." Before she can stop him, he is taking her hand and kissing the back of her hand.

All his friends laugh, watching him with joy, how he flirted with the school freshman. All but one. He rolls his eyes and watches closely how quickly she pulls the hand out of Alphard's lips.

"Forgive my friends, they do not know how to behave," another boy says, putting his hand on her shoulder. He has dark brown curly hair with black eyes. "Allow me to introduce them: This is Alphard Black, as you already know."

He points to the boy who resembles Sirius and nods in acknowledgment, his hair going all the way down the neck, giving a rebellious style and breaking the style suitable 40s.

"This is Angus Nott." He points to a boy who has wavy hair and cut, split aside and with a caramel tone. Having freckles on the nose and a lateral smile. A smart and malicious look underneath the eyelashes.

 _It can't be._

"This is John Avery." He points to a green-eyed blonde, who smiles confidently at her.

 _It can't be._

"This is Polumetis Mulciber." He points at the shorter boy than the others, with hair that was a medium-term between blond and brown and who was scratching the back of his head like he was awkward.

 _It can't be_.

"This is Adrien Rosier." He points to the boy who called her 'princess.'

 _It can't be._

" I'm Lestrange." He points to himself. "Radalphus Lestrange II"

It can't be!

She wants to get away from him and clean her shoulder like he has some contagious disease, but she just can't. She's paralyzed.

"Is it true that you were fighting in the war?" The handsome boy asks, cutting off Lestrange's introduction. Hermione only has the strength to confirm with her head. "Oh!"

"This is your savior, he helped you in the battle in the courtyard." Lestrange smiled while pointing to a handsome boy.

"Will you attend Hogwarts?" He asks, and again Hermione nods. He cannot be whom I think he is. "How curious a transferred student," he observes. "Anyway, what we saw in the courtyard was impressive. I hope that you will be selected in Slytherin, we will certainly welcome you. "

It can't be! When he spoke, all Hermione could imagine were snakes looking at her with a sly grin on face and piercing eyes.

"Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself. Tom Riddle, at your service." He puts his hand on his chest and bends over, looking at her from under his eyelashes with a piercing look. Never really bowing.

She's going to vomit.

* * *

 **Bungarus candidus also known as Krait Malasiana, is the third most poisonous snake in the world.**


	4. Chapter 3 Dendroaspis

**-I would like to thank everyone who favored, commented and gave kudos. Thank you very much.**

 **-Thank you KateKat1992 and Infernalbooks for the comments and the affection.**

 **-Remembering that English is not my mother tongue, but I worked hard, so I hope the text is readable to you. Let me know if the text is good. Or if I need to fix something**

* * *

 _Chapter 3. Dendroaspis _\- _The lion or the snake._

Her legs are trembling, her throat is dry, her heart pounding against her chest, her lungs seem to ache with every intake of air and her eyes burn with the tears that are beginning to form. Hermione thinks she's at the beginning of a panic attack or hyperventilating.

Oh, she remembers him now. The boy who tried to help her and Harry. Oh, she remembers. Remembers him fighting and how she protected him from Fiendfyre. She had no idea who he was at the time, but if she knew... If she knew that he was the cause of so much suffering and terror that tormented her and her friends, if she knew he was a murderer and a terrorist, if she knew that he was the future Dark Lord, if she knew he was Lord Voldemort ...

She wouldn't have thought twice before letting the Fiendfyre hit him. How ironic it would be to see the Dark Lord being charred by one of his Death Eaters. Oh, she would have liked it. Merlin knows she would. She would dance in his ashes, she would set off fireworks like the Wildfired Whiz-Bangs, drink a barrel of mead and one of Firewhisky and laugh like a drunk. Merlin, she would swim naked on the Great Lake. All this to commemorate the death of the Dark Lord. But no, she'd saved him, put herself in front of him to protect him from the attack.

In her defense, she thought it would have been a worthy act, to sacrifice herself and protect a student who tried to help her and Harry - even if this student didn't know what he was getting into. It was the right thing to do and Hermione didn't want to see any more deaths.

 _It would have been the right thing to do... if this person were not Voldemort himself!_

Hermione kicked herself mentally. If she had let the _Fiendfyre_ hit him, then all the problems of the wizarding world would have been solved. Even if it was against the advice Dumbledore gave to her, even if his early death changed all the trajectory of time, for a moment the idea was tempting for her.

"Miss ...?" He tilts his head to the side, his voice sweet and with eyebrows united, as if he were worried.

Hermione so far said nothing, she was petrified in her place, still trying to absorb the idea of being face to face with young Voldemort and his most loyal followers. _This can only be karma_. A rebellious tear trickles down her face and she dries quickly, trying to compose herself to face him. For everyone present, the girl's countenance and pallor did not go unnoticed, not even the tear.

"Forgive me," she says, swallowing. "I remembered some memories of the fight."

"Oh, it's understandable that you're scared." Riddle puts his hand on her shoulder, lowering slightly, so that he is at the height of her eyes. Hermione's eyes widen at the sight of him so close. Not a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy she can see, all she sees is the pale, noiseless, red-eyed monster with a snake face.

His hand is on her shoulder and Hermione think that soon she has a chance to take a shower, she will rub her shoulder for at least thirty minutes.

"But I'm sure you're safe at Hogwarts." He smiles, trying to convey security.

"Uh ... uh, thank you." She murmurs.

Their attention is drawn to two more boys who are approaching. One was blond hair like Draco, who looked almost white, with green eyes and white skin, walked serenely and yet, arrogant. His lips were strangely rosy as if he had passed lipstick, but Hermione supposed it was only the color contrast with his other had a rather long face, dark hair as well as his eyebrows, his nose seemed a little crooked, as if he had broken and was never healed right or he never bothered to go see a mediwitch, however, he didn't seem to care. He was a little more corpulent and strangely familiar.

When they finally got close enough, they stopped and looked at her with interest.

"This is Abraxas Malfoy." Riddle introduced him. Abraxas looked at her from above, this being the only trace of recognition of her presence he gave.

Obviously, he was a Malfoy, such physical appearance could only come from this family.

"And this is Antonin Dolohov."

Hermione swore that the tea and biscuits she had eaten with Dumbledore were coming back from her throat to her mouth. _Oh, it's karma_. Her stomach churned and she was sweating cold.

 _Where did she and Harry get in? They were in the middle of the snakes, literally. Draco and his gang were nothing compared to this, they were small snakes like those of gardens, without poison and only threatening. Now, these? These were the real dangerous snake, najas, poisonous and with their King guiding them_.

"This is Miss ...?" Riddle stop, staring at her, remembering that at no time had she given her name.

"Granger. Hermione Granger. "Her voice is thin and low.

Before anything else can happen, the whole group of Slytherins stiffens in the presence of Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore." Riddle is the first to speak, putting his hands behind his back, straightening his posture and raising his head in a very perfect way.

Dumbledore came as her savior and for a moment, Hermione thinks she will cry like a five-year-old girl because he came to rescue her from this group of snakes.

"Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore greets, looking over his half-moon glasses. "I believe, gentlemen, that it is time for dinner. I recommend that you join your housemates. "

"Of course, Professor. We were just introducing ourselves to Miss Granger. She was returning the robe Alphard lent this morning." Lestrange speaks and as if to confirm, Alphard swings a little the robe in his hands.

"It's true, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione confirms, much more to ensure her safety than theirs. Oh, Merlin saves her from being a target of this gang.

"Very well." Dumbledore accepts such an answer, releasing the Slytherins who soon enter the Great Hall. "The Sorting Hat awaits you, Miss Granger." Dumbledore smiles slightly, before entering the Great Hall as well.

Hermione is standing there, staring at the doors to the Great Hall. She admits that she's a little anxious and so she takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. When she enters the Great Hall, the whole conversation dies and an awkward silence remains. She is the target of curious looks and as she walks toward the stool placed at the head of the Great Hall, there is a nostalgic feeling in her. The four tables representing the four great Houses of Hogwarts, the ceiling with floating candles and enchanted to look like the night sky with stars, the teachers' table, and Headmaster, ghosts and portraits. For a moment in her life, Hermione thought she would lose all this.

She walks more confidently, feeling more confident than the eleven-year-old girl who has walked - will walk - through this Hall. She is more mature and wise, so when she climbs the few steps to reach the Sorting Hat, she smiles at Dumbledore, who holds the Hat.

She sits on the stool, Hermione is facing the whole Hall, to all the students who are silent and look intently at her. She takes another deep breath before she feels the Hat being put on her head. For some reason, it seems heavier, but it's probably her impression and it's also a result of her concern.

 _Hello, child._ The Hat's voice resounds in her mind. _Have we met before? Hm ... What do we have here? A paradox is you? Interesting._ At the Hat's comment, Hermione fought against the Hat invasion in her mind. _Relax, child. Let me in._

 _Just put me in Gryffindor_. She orders.

 _It's not that simple. Let me analyze you._

She is reluctant to let the Hat in and know everything that has happened to her, but it seems inevitable, so, gradually, she lets the Hat in and know all the traits of her personality and how the events she passed, modified her.

 _Hm ... I see. You are loyal as those of Hufflepuff House to those who can win your heart. It is dedicated, works hard and has the thought that everyone is your equal, regardless of race. The Hufflepuff House would welcome you. Helga would certainly be happy to have someone like you at her house._

 _However, your brain is fascinating. You are extremely intelligent, have good reasoning and it's quite logical. Independent and an insightful observer, besides having intellectual curiosity. The Ravenclaw House would accept you for who you are. Rowena would be amazed by you. But you're not tolerant and patient as you think you are._

"It's a Hatstall," someone murmured.

"Are you sure?"

"It's been four and a half minutes." Another responds.

 _There's your fear_. The Hat spoke confidently and Hermione swallowed. _The Slytherin House. You mustn't fear them, not really. Against everything you think, you really do have the traits that belong to this House. The Slytherin House values ambition, cunning, intelligence, and determination. These traits you've already presented. The House also values self-preservation and you have also presented this trait, haven't you? You don't expect to act in your defense and it's also a little judicious. But are you smart enough to survive in the Snake House? Will you be able to manipulate people so you can get out unharmed? Remember that everyone there shares the same traits as you and they will test you to see how far you are able to go and if you will able to settle down in that House._

 _Oh, please don't! They will kill me if I enter this House_.

Salazar Slytherin himself would rise from his grave if he knew that a Muggleborn was in his House. But all Hermione heard was Hat's somber laughter.

"It's a real Hatstall," one student confirmed. "It's been six minutes."

 _Oh, Gryffindor. Brave, adventurous, fearless, stubborn and competitive. This is the Gryffindor House. Godric Gryffindor himself would be impressed by your courage. You are fearless and face your fears and enemies for what you believe, you are faithful to your friends and although sometimes go against their actions, you do not abandon them. You're stubborn when you think you are right and you are competitive, always willing to win first place. And though you say you're a rule-lover, you're not afraid to break them if you have to._

"It's seven minutes already." Another student said, impressed.

 _Which house should I put you in? Hm ..._

 _Gryffindor!_ Hermione ordered, the Hat laughed at her command.

 _Once was, maybe. Now I know you, Hermione Granger. Your attitudes have changed, you hesitate between being merciful or being merciless. Sometimes you question yourself and seems to select those who should receive your kindness and your effort. Despite your loyal manner, you don't belong to Hufflepuff House._

 _Ah, here's the problem._ The Hat noticed _. I can put you in any of the three remaining Houses. You certainly have the traits of the Ravenclaw House, this House suits you well. With your intelligence, your thirst for knowledge and wisdom, you're brilliant for Ravenclaw House, though ..._

 _You would die for those you love and would fight until your last breath for them, you already sacrificed for them and would do it_ _again, despite_ _fear, you face your enemies and sacrifice yourself for a greater good. Courageous is you. But_ _..._

 _What you went through, the things you had to do, changed you a little. You still question your attitudes, but don't think twice about what has to be done to achieve what you want._ _You would kill for those you love, you will manipulate your enemies if necessary. You are ambitious and thirsting for recognition. You want people to know who you are and that's why you stand out. Determined is you._

 _Be careful what you do here, paradox._ The Hat alert.

 _Your heart is and always will be -_

" **\- Gryffindor!"** The Sorting Hat, with a powerful voice, announced.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, but the tension in the Great Hall was palpable and silent. Everyone looked at her and even a single sip of pumpkin juice drunk by someone could be heard. She felt the Sorting Hat being pulled from her head and she looked at Dumbledore, who smiled at her and then, the Gryffindor's table burst into applause and smiles. It was like her first year, Hermione thought.

Her gray clothes turned into the colors of Gryffindor House, with just a snap of Dumbledore's fingers.

More relieved and confident, Hermione walked toward her table. They made room for her to sit down and she had to restrain a smile, for sure enough, she was happier to be among Gryffindors.

"Come on, you can pass twenty galleons each." A tall, strong, red-haired boy spoke. He had green eyes and freckles on his nose and an extrovert air around him. To Hermione, he reminded her of the brothers Fred and George.

"Argh, you're extorting me." Another red-haired boy complained. This one had lighter hair and bright brown eyes, but what scared Hermione was just as how much like Ron, he was.

She couldn't control herself and all she saw was Ron. Her heart squeezed and she looked at him, fascinated.

"Well, well, if you didn't keep betting with him, he wouldn't be taking your money." The girl sitting in front of Hermione, said. She had light brown hair, green eyes, and lips with lipstick. "I'm Enid." The girl reached out, greeting Hermione.

"Hermione."

"Welcome to Gryffindor House. This is Bilius Weasley." She pointed to the red-haired boy sitting next to Hermione. "And this is Ectur Prewett." She gestured to the red-haired boy who looks like Ron. "Don't mind with them. They were betting on which House you would enter. "

"It was a fair bet. You're a Hatstall, after three minutes the bets have been made." Bilius shrugged, talking cheerfully to Hermione. "Well then?"

"What?" Hermione tried not to laugh at the look of anticipation on Bilius's face.

"Which House the Hat was in doubt? After what I saw in the courtyard, I knew you would be in Gryffindor, but our Ectur here thought you would be in Hufflepuff. "

Hermione looked at Ectur and found herself blushing, because he reminded her of Ron. But didn't escape from Hermione that she was possibly talking to the father of the future Mrs. Weasley. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to keep her bad thoughts away

"He was in doubt between Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor," she said solemnly.

"Thank God," Ectur murmured. "Glad you didn't get into Slytherin."

"That's true," Enid confirmed.

"Look at them," Bilius said, and inconveniently Ectur, Enid, Bilius, and Hermione looked at the Slytherin House table. "They probably take poison for breakfast."

Enid tried to hide her laughter before she spat out her pumpkin juice and in a very delicate way, she wiped the corners of her mouth.

"The basic rule of Hogwarts: Don't trust a Slytherin," Ectur told Hermione, as advice to the school freshman.

"I'm truly surprised you decided to come to Hogwarts after what happened-"

"Bilius, no!" Enid censored. "Don't scare the girl."

"What? What happened? "Hermione asked, now very curious about the abrupt change in the conversation.

Both, Ectur and Enid, were silent and looked at their food plates.

"Well, I mean, it's not to be frightened." Bilius tries to undo the conversation.

"What is it?" Hermione demanded softly.

"We are really surprised that someone wants to come to Hogwarts after the attacks and death of Myrtle Warren. She was from the Ravenclaw House." Enid explained, more gently and politely. Trying to appease some supposed terror the fledgling might have. "For a moment, we all thought the school would have been closed. But apparently, it's been solved. So you can stay calm. "

As Enid spoke, Hermione lowered her head and looked at her empty plate, remembering why she was here. For a moment she forgot, seeing the students' entrenchment at the Gryffindor table at dinner, being in the Great Hall, smelling the food and looking at Enid, Ectur, and Bilius, made her feel comfortable. When all she saw was Fred and George, Ron and Ginny.

The image of Fred and George, of Ginny and of Ron... They undid in her mind and now she could truly see Bilius, Enid and Ectur. The truth fell like a brick on Hermione's head. These weren't her friends, of her generation, they were their ancestors. The future parents and grandparents of her friends.

When Enid quotes Myrtle Warren, the Moaning Myrtle, Hermione shudders. Now she understands where she is and whom she talked to at the entrance to the Great Hall. Oh, the real snakes. The real killer of Myrtle. He was there, a few feet away from her.

She didn't resist and looked at the Slytherin table, Enid's voice, Ectur, and Bilius stayed away and she focused on Lord Voldemort.

Oh, it's was weird. It's certainly was strange to watch the young Dark Lord eating. He was educated and ate quietly, had posture, seemed to know about etiquette and made a face every time he saw someone eating and talking at the same time.

He was pale, really pale, as if his skin could not get a tan. His skin was perfect, his lips were full of the right size, his nose was perfect, his eyebrows were a little down, his hair was black as the color of a crow and his eyes were peculiar ... They were extremely green, which could be black if he were in the dark or could be gray if he were in the light. He is perfect, his beauty is perfect and for a moment Hermione asks herself if his beauty is an effect of the potion his mother gave to his father.

But Hermione can see through his beauty, because she knows what he's capable of. Then she can feel the small gloomy air around him and can see that he has a few dark circles under his eyes as if he had not slept right or was a trace of his pallor, but she knows better, it's the Horcrux. He has already made a Horcrux. Hermione's blood runs cold through her veins. Oh, he already managed to oust Hagrid. Oh, he's already a _killer_ , a _murderer_. Hagrid...

As if he felt himself being watched, Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord, raised is gaze and looks directly at her and Hermione flees from his gaze quickly.

Now she's sure she needs to get out of here. She needs to find a way to get her and Harry back to their time.

Decided, she picks up some food and puts it on her plate.

 **o0o**

At first, Tom Riddle observed her interacting with his servants and housemates. He noticed the look of terror she had, the pallor that her skin had become and how she struggled against tears. None of this went unnoticed by him. He is odd that her behavior and the fact that she wanted the smallest possible contact.

His servants were trying to attract her, trying to impress her with their surnames, as they did with all the other girls. She was one more and they were playing with her. She was a trapped mouse and they were the snakes ready to devour her.

He remembers her in this morning, when she seemed to be a schizophrenic girl, walking barefoot in hospital pajamas and with wild hair. Altered and nervous.

Ordinary people have the need to have their psychological in good condition, but any unusual experience break their minds very easily and they develop some kind of panic, is what happens to this girl. She developed some sort of post-trauma and how does he know that? He knows this from the moment her voice sounds thin and low, when she says she remembers a few moments of the fight. Tom almost rolls his eyes.

To keep up appearances, he smiles. Tom knows that he doesn't feel like most people, sometimes he thinks he is unable to feel any emotion. As if he were hollow, empty and nothing and no one could awaken any feeling in him that was not contempt. And it's not like he needs to feel anything beyond that.

As a child, he was unable to convey any emotion, being apathetic and having nothing of charisma, but he has been smart enough to understand since childhood as the world and people work.

Oh, it was so simple. He was an attentive, insightful observer and recorded every expression people made to convey some emotion. Happiness, anger, anxiety, fear, guilt, sadness ... He decorated each of them. He discovered how easy it is to manipulate people. Say in their ears sweet words, praise them, make them trust you, be patient and then, they start talking. Telling their fears, their secrets, and when they least expect it, he has already applied the bite. Like a snake, he slowly squeezes until it breaks their bones. Soon, each of these people is in the palm of his hand. They barely realize that they've given it to him, all the weapons so he can destroy them.

He puts his hand on her shoulder. Touch. In order to pass credibility, touch is necessary, eye contact is necessary, it masks the lies and the disguise that he really doesn't care that she is well. The mask he puts on his face, imitating an almost genuine expression of condescending, is for her. It's the first step for her to open up to him and tell him everything he wants to know.

He's a curious one from birth. Tom doesn't like not knowing who the people around him are. Hogwarts is his castle and here he is King. And a king needs to know who his subjects are. If she really was in the war, as she stated, then he wants to know more. He wants to know why her arrival had such a disturbance in magic that all wizards and witches felt. He wants to know why she was being hunted. Well, it was no less than fair that she gives him answers, after all, he risked himself - well, that's half truth - to save her and her friend, brother or whatever.

He also remembers that she stood in front of the Fiendfyre to protect him. Unnecessary , he admits. He could save himself. But he promises that her actions will not be taken in vain. He'll be a little nicer to her and if she's interesting enough, he'll give her a favor. After all, a Lord, a King, is benevolent to those who show loyalty.

Then Dumbledore arrives. The old man sucks.

Dumbledore is what can be considered the stone in his shoe. He managed to get all the teachers and even the Headmaster to fall in on his good graces, except for Dumbledore. The old madman is like a shadow behind him, always doubting his words and attitudes - and rightly so. - but it's really annoying and annoying to have to deal with the famous and illustrious Albus Dumbledore. The only person who knows his past, who knows that he lives in an orphanage and the guilty one of him having to go on every summer vacation to that rotten and filthy place he hates. He would like to burn that place with all those people inside. He hates that place and those people and what they do to him.

Ah, but his revenge is slow and deadly.

With a nod, Tom walks to the Great Hall. Malfoy, Dolohov, Mulciber, Rosier, Avery, Lestrange, Nott and Black walk behind him like a bunch of puppies. If he tells them to lie down and roll, they can all do it.

 _Oh, the fear_. Tom yawns. _What people don't do when they feel scared when they feel threatened. It's really funny._

They walk and the girls sigh, laugh like hyenas, blush and blink wildly. It's disgusting. Tom Riddle, smiled at them. Girls can be really annoying. His group is famous among the girls and envied by the boys. Good-looking, that's what the girls say. Each of them is a kind of ideal man, they sigh. Sportsman, intellectual, musician, flirt, charismatic, introvert, cheeky and Tom Riddle, ah ... Tom Riddle is perfect. Because it's a bit of each of these things in the perfect measure.

It really does have the advantage of being the best, he observes. While walking, people make way for him, the Slytherins make room for him to sit at the table, looking at him, admiring, cautious, envious. Hogwarts is his castle and here he is King.

And then, she enters. Tom realizes that her attitude has changed. From a frightened little girl to a confident woman. The Great Hall is silent for the arrival of the school freshman. Everyone is curious about the girl who fought in the courtyard.

He notices a deep breath she takes before she has the Hat on her head. He stood there, watching her closely. If you looked quickly, you would think she was ordinary, but if you stopped to notice her, you would see that she was even a little pretty. Her hair was really full and uncontrollable - at first, he thought her hair was that way because of the battle - but no, her hair was like the mane of a lion. Her eyes were brown, she had a few freckles on her nose, her lips were thin, her eyebrows were low as if she was almost always serious.

He thought it would be quick, but it wasn't like that.

Come to Slytherin. If she were selected for Slytherin House, she would be under his control. It would make his work a thousand times easier. And then, he waited and waited.

"It's a Hatstall," someone murmured at Slytherin's table and he cast a somber look on the person.

When it was five minutes, Tom was already impatient and the girl started and went into his dark side. In less than a day, the girl became the feel of the school. When it was six minutes, he locked his jaw.

 _What's so different about her?_ He asked himself, suspiciously. He promised himself that he would pay due attention to the girl.

When she hit the seven-minute mark, it was indisputable that she was a Hatstall. Tom remembers when he had the Hat was placed on his head. It didn't take long, the Hat knew what he was capable of, how much magic he had. Soon he was selected for Slytherin.

You see, Slytherin is really his House. It's his home. **He's the Prince of Slytherin. The Heir.**

 **"-Gryffindor!"** The Hat announced and all the appreciation he felt for the girl collapsed.

 _Really?The House of Idiots?_ He snorted. Well, he's still going to keep an eye on her, but now she's nothing but a disgus- He notices the look she gives Dumbledore as if seeking approval. How curious. In Gryffindor House, she's right under Dumbledore's wing. That look Dumbledore gave her, he knows.

 **Dumbledore knows something.**

 _Curious._

He eats patiently, tasting his meal. To each of the boys who eat with their mouths open or talk while eating, he makes a face. Tom rolls his eyes mentally. _These people who are Daddy's little children and don't know the least of how to behave at the table._ It's really disgusting and gives him the urge to vomit.

Tom Riddle feels. He feels when someone's looking at him. It's like some kind of sixth sense he's developed. A way of saying he's always conscious of what's going on around him. When he looks up, she is looking at him. He would smile at her, throw the bait for her to catch, the girls always fall for this, but she quickly flees from his gaze. Ignoring him.

His jaw locks and his teeth grind with the pressure he applies. His eyes narrow.

The Slytherin students walk back to the dungeons, to retire for the night. The youthful air between them is noticeable. But it's only between them. The Slytherins don't get along very well with people who are from outside, newcomers have a certain type of _'smell'_. Slytherins only fight for themselves.

But as soon as everyone passes through the stone wall, the environment changes. The Slytherins are not overtly cheerful and extroverted, but it's really amazing how everyone changes from the moment they are in the Common Room.

And it's changed is because of Riddle.

Malfoy, Lestrange, Avery, Black, Mulciber, Nott, and Rosier spread out in the Common Room as they watch Riddle sit in his favorite armchair near the fireplace. The combination of the darkness and the low light that the fireplace provided was perfect to make that boy more terrifying than he was. At Slytherin House, there is a very obvious hierarchy and Riddle is at the top.

Slytherin's regular students talk softly, respecting the space of Riddle's gang.

Malfoy sits down on one of the sofas after taking his robe off the Slytherin and calmly reads his book. Although it seems that he is focused on reading, it's the contrary, he is very attentive to what is happening around him and the tension in the Common Room.

Black lies on one of the sofas, loosening his tie and winding the sleeves of his shirt. He looks at the green lamp as if it were extremely interesting. Dolohov is sitting on the arm of the sofa that Alphard is lying on.

Nott and Mulciber are seated, starting a wizard chess match and looking through the windows of the Common Room, Hogwarts lake.

Avery and Rosier are quietly standing, talking to each other.

And Lestrange is walking from one side to another, like a caged animal.

"A waste of time," Lestrange complains. "The freshman is a stupid Gryffindor."

Avery and Rosier exchange glances and smiles at Lestrange's comment.

"Calm down, some Gryffindors are good," Avery says.

"Even if it's to kill time." Rosier complete.

Nott and Mulciber laugh, Dolohov shakes his head, but there is a smile on his face. Alphard is silent, still contemplating the chandelier of dark green color. Malfoy sighs and rolls his eyes before continuing to read.

The Knights wait until the Common Room is being occupied only by them. Some Slytherin girls say goodbye with a silly smile to Avery, Rosier, and Lestrange, others talk to Dolohov. Mulciber and Nott are undisturbed while playing chess. Riddle, well, no one dares to talk to Riddle when he's thinking. For girls, it's like observing a beautiful painting from some museum - see, but not touch. And now, the Nines are alone in the Common Room.

"Lestrange." It's Riddle's voice that sounded.

They freeze immediately when they hear Riddle's voice. Oh, they make mistakes. They made a terrible mistake. Alphard quickly adjusts his position, sitting on the sofa, Malfoy stops reading and sits more upright, Nott and Mulciber left their chess game, Dolohov is more attentive now and Avery, Rosier, and Lestrange also sit.

Their breathing becomes shallow as they wait for what Riddle will say. They still remember the terrible mistake they made in the first year. They joined up against Riddle and questioned his blood status, mocked him and cursed him, and even today they have nightmares with the remembrance of the childish Riddle version when he took revenge. That ... That wasn't normal. How could a little boy invoke so much fear in other little boys?

That pale, handsome little boy with green eyes and perfect face ... With a dark smile on his face, with his wrath and strong magic around him. A magic so strong they all felt. It was a living thing. That smile he gave while they screamed and it looked like their bodies were on fire.

If one day they questioned what Riddle was, they never did anymore. Especially now.

"Yes, my lord," Lestrange says in a low, submissive voice.

"Your father has contacts in the Ministry, doesn't he?" Riddle asks, his voice calm, focused. He seems quiet and serious.

"Yes, my lord."

"Wouldn't it be nice if he could get us some information about what happened to our new student ... What's her name? Oh, yes, Miss Granger." Tom rested his head on his hand, which was clenched into fist and his arm resting on the arm of the armchair.

"I can try to talk to my father and try to get the information," Lestrange responds quickly, almost stammering. Tom frowned a little.

" Are you going to try it, Lestrange? "There is a somber tone in Tom's voice, indicating the change of temper. Tom swung his wand lightly, playing with her with his fingers. It's a trap for Lestrange, depending on what Lestrange respond, he knows what will happen to him.

"I mean I'll get the information," Lestrange corrected himself quickly.

" My? "Tom insinuates.

"My lord," Lestrange corrected himself again.

"Great!" The change in Tom's voice is immediate. "Isn't it wonderful when we all cooperate, huh?" Tom smiles. It's terrifying.

 **It's just terrifying.**

* * *

 **Dendroaspis** **polylepis is also known as Black Mamba. The fourth most poisonous snake in the world.**


	5. Chapter 4 Notenchis

**-** **I would like to thank** **la canelle, Infernalbooks, ElenaSliverstone, Reader4581, Charleneclark1988**

 **-** **Thank you for understanding that English is not my native language and for being understandable with some errors in the text.**

 **I mean, I'm working hard to improve the writing, but with the help of you telling me where the error in the text is, it will make it easier and I'll correct it and try not to make the same mistake. Improving the chapter and making the reading experience better. So, let me know if the chapter is good or if it needs some change.**

 **Again, thank you for all the affection. I love you, guys!**

* * *

 _Chapter 4. Notechis_ \- _The beginning._

Inside the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione felt like she was at home. It's safe, cozy and familiar. Enid, Bilius, and Ectur talked with her cheerfully, trying to make her comfortable.

She had the pleasure of meeting Algie Longbottom, Enid's fiance.

"See Hermione." Enid showed her hand, moving her fingers to highlight the wizard-style engagement ring. "Isn't it beautiful?" She smiled, giving a kiss to Algie's cheek.

Algie hugged Enid closer, smiling at her. He is the Gryffindor monitor just like Enid was and everyone was sure that the two would be Head Boy and Head Girl respectively next year when they enter the seventh year.

"Enid, Hermione is the sixth girl you showed your ring to today." Laughed Ignatius Prewett, his comment attracted everyone's laughter.

Ignatius was Ectur's older brother and was in the same year as Algie and Enid.

Hermione still had the pleasure of meeting Frederick Longbottom, Algie's brother and Lyall Lupin, the father of the future Remus Lupin, who were in their third year, eager to start their fourth year.

"Let's go, guys, let the freshman rest. I'm sure today was a hard day for her." Algie comments and for being a good leader, everyone agrees with the comment he made.

They wish Goodnight, making the opposite way to the female dormitory, while Enid and Hermione up the stairs.

It's a fact that all the things Hermione has been in her little handbag. Books, materials and everything that is important to her and Harry's survival is in there and with a simple Accio, she summons one of her pajamas.

When she lies down, the weight on her shoulders finally seems to alleviate. It's the first time in a while that she can lie down a little more relaxed, even though she's still worried.

Hermione turns, hugging the pillow. Sleep came easy, but she woke early the next morning - courtesy of the time she spent in the tent.

Quietly, she picks up the things she'll need for today in her handbag and then goes to the bathroom, doing her morning routine, watching her sleeping roommates. Down the stairs, she was surprised to find Ectur already awake.

"I'm happy to find someone who also wakes up early," he says, smiling.

"Good morning." She smiles at him, carrying her school bag. "Let's have breakfast?"

"Sure." He agrees, holding out a hand to Hermione. She looks at his hand, a little disconcerted.

"What?" She asked, not understanding what he wanted.

"Your bag, silly." He chuckles. "Let me take it."

 _Oh, the chivalry of the 1940s_ , Hermione realizes. She isn't accustomed to this kind of attitude and, awkwardly, she gives him her school bag. Ectur smiles at her behavior, finding it somehow cute the way she behaves. Taking their bags in one hand, he offers the other arm to Hermione who hesitantly accepts.

"I don't bite," he says, teasing out a laugh from Hermione.

The Great Hall has few students, but Hermione is sure it won't be long before it gets full. When she glances at the Slytherin table, Hermione can't tell if she's really surprised to find the young Dark Lord already there. She thinks it's a bit obvious he was there so early. Of course, Voldemort gets up earlier than the others and probably being the last one to sleep. It's possible that the boy mistrusted his own shadow.

Hermione thinks it will be difficult to get used to seeing the Dark Lord eat. It's certainly hard to imagine Voldemort doing such things basic and human, but she does her best to focus on what Ectur is saying.

At first, they don't eat, and they keep talking for a long time. Ectur is thrilled to talk to Hermione and tell her everything about Hogwarts, and she plays her freshman role very well, listening to all he has to say. Ectur is charismatic and friendly and his cheeks turn rosy with ease.

The Great Hall is filled with students. Algie and Enid sit side by side, talking to Ignatius. Lyall Lupine and Fred Longbottom are excited about the Quidditch finals and Hermione watches Bilius and Ectur arguing eagerly, but she smiles at them. They are eating, when a Slytherin girl walks toward the Gryffindor table. Bilius follows the girl's movement with her eyes, watching closely where she was going. He nudges Ectur with his elbow and nods so that Ectur notices what is happening as well. Hermione is just a bystander.

"We need to talk." The girl stops right next to Ignatius.

"What is it about, Miss Black?" Ignatius narrowed his eyes.

Apparently, the way Ignatius spoke wasn't pleasant enough for the Slytherin girl.

"You can be sure that I wouldn't be talking to you if it wasn't necessary. So I need to talk to you." The girl cast a grim look at the Gryffindor table. "Alone" she emphasized.

Ignatius sighed before getting up, gesturing for the girl to walk ahead. The two left the Great Hall and Hermione noticed that it was not only the Gryffindors who were watching the couple leave, but the Slytherins were also as well.

"Who is she?" Hermione asked quietly.

Ectur leaned in and whispered in Hermione's ear.

"She's Lucretia Black." He satisfied Hermione's curiosity. "See those there?" Ectur discreetly pointed to the Slytherin table for three Slytherins - two boys and one girl. The Black family, Hermione acknowledged. "That's Orion Black, Lucretia's younger brother, he's in the fourth year. That is Walburga Black, and she is Alphard's older sister, who is sitting next to her." Ectur explained. The three of them were staring at the doors of the Great Hall. "They are relatives of our dear Bilius." He tapped Bilius on the shoulder, which made a face.

"My mother is Cedrella Black," Bilius explains. "My father is Septimus Weasley, who is considered by the Black family as a Blood Traitor." He mumbled with disdain the last words. "My parents' marriage was not accepted by the Black family, and they excluded my mother. I have no contact with any of them." Bilius shrugged. "My maternal grandmother is Lysandra Yaxley, which makes me connected to the Yaxley family. My aunts are Charis Crouch née Black, she has a four-year-old son named Barty and Callidora Longbottom née Black, who is Algie and Fred's grandmother. "

" In other words -" Ectur speaks. "Everyone's connected."

"I see," Hermione says. She certainly has a notion that all wizard families are somehow connected, is one of the motives that make Muggle-borns so excluded, but it's certainly interesting and a bit terrifying to look closely at what marriage connections do.

They're still talking when they notice Orion, Walburga, and Alphard, are getting up and leaving the Great Hall. It is known that the Black family cherish their members and protect themselves, so seeing them coming out is an indication that the problems are coming to Ignatius. But to everyone's surprise, he doesn't take long and comes back with a sulky and disgusted face.

His friends try to question him about what happened, but he says he's not in the mood to talk about it and they respect his decision. Only Alphard and Walburga return to finish their breakfast and it is probable that Orion stayed with his sister.

The first lesson that Hermione will have since she went back to the past is Potions with Horace Slughorn. Ectur and Bilius walk beside her, Ectur was holding her school bag and offering her the arm. In the corridor, as they passed a group of Ravenclaw girls, Hermione gets a deadly look from one of the girls.

"What was that?"

"This is Mary Runcorn and you've been holding the arm of her passion since the third year," Bilius says with a laugh. Is his time to take revenge on Ectur for the comment on the table in the Great Hall.

Hermione automatically releases Ectur, which makes Bilius laugh even more. Ectur rolls his eyes and has his cheeks pink.

"Don't worry, Hermione." Bilius continues.

"I don't want any trouble."

"You won't have it," Ectur reassures her. "She and I have nothing."

"Not for Miss Runcorn's lack of attempts. It's likely that next Valentine's Day she will give him the greatest declaration of love ever made at Hogwarts."

"Desired you are, hm?" Hermione enters Bilius's play, only to hear a grumbling of Ectur.

They arrive in the Potions room, Professor Slughorn is already there, waiting for the students. It's a Gryffindor / Slytherin class and when she realizes that Tom Riddle and his gang are there, it's like popping the little bubble of happiness she had thirty seconds ago. Hermione's blood freezes.

When Slughorn notices the presence of the celebrated Miss Granger, which all the teachers were speaking, including the Headmaster Dippet, he approaches with a smile for Hermione. Ectur sits next to Bilius after handing Hermione, her school bag.

"Miss Granger, it's a great pleasure to meet you. Dumbledore talked about you. I must say you are brave enough to have been in the war. "

"Thank you very much, Professor Slughorn. It's a pleasure to meet you too" Hermione says. _And Dumbledore saves my skin one more time,_ she thinks _._ Certainly, Dumbledore talked to Dippet and the other teachers, probably to keep the lie about her arrival.

"Congratulations on being chosen as Head of the Slytherin House. Professor Dumbledore told me," If her knowledge is correct, Professor Slughorn is given the title of Head of the Slytherin House by that time. To her relief, Slughorn opens a smile, indicating that Hermione was correct.

"Thank you, Miss Granger." Slughorn thanks. "Dumbledore told us about your delicate situation." He continues. "That is why I recommend you to sit beside our dear Mr. Riddle. He's one of the best students- "

Hermione looks at the empty chair next to Riddle and then looks at him. She's pretty sure he's paying attention to what Slughorn is saying and that's why he smiles so softly and lowers his gaze as if he's shy about being praised to an unfamiliar person.

"- I'm sure he'll help you with whatever you need." Hermione looks back at Slughorn who continues to speak. "But if you have any serious questions, be sure to ask me."

Hermione is reluctant to accept. She wanted to say that there's no need to be with Riddle, she's smart enough to learn by herself, and she knows everything about the entire fifth year. But, against her will, she sits next to Riddle. She is almost at the edge of the chair, eyes trained on Slughorn as she slowly picks up a quill and parchment.

"Good morning, Miss Granger. I hope you're adapting well to Hogwarts," Riddle says.

"Good morning, Mr. Riddle, I'm adapting very well, thank you for asking," Hermione replies, after a few seconds debating whether or not to talk with him. But she considered it would be more suspicious of her to ignore him when, then, he supposedly didn't anything for her.

She feels Tom Riddle's gaze on her and is disconcerting and makes her feel insecure and anxious. He is analyzing it, even if very discreetly and that is not good.

He tries a few times:

 _How can I help you, Miss Granger?_

 _Are you in need of help, Miss Granger?_

 _Are you having any questions?_

She denies all the questions he asks. She was almost curled up in her chair, her eyes following every move Slughorn made. Suddenly the Potions class became extremely interesting, just because she was very willing to ignore Tom Riddle and go unnoticed. But when the class was over, she gathered up her material quickly, trying to escape Tom's presence, but one of her quills fell and before she could catch it, Tom took it.

He looks with interest at her quill, before looking at Hermione.

"Here, Miss Granger." He offers the quill to her, looking intensely, never blinking. His eyes... His eyes never looked appealing as they are now, the color green-gray almost glowing. Attracting to look at him.

Hermione got stuck in his gaze for a moment before she understood what he might be doing. _Legilimency ...!_

Terrified, she runs from his gaze, taking her quill and cursing.

"Thank you, Mr. Riddle." She says softly, before turning and walking quickly towards Bilius and Ectur.

Hermione breathed more relieved as she put a distance between herself and Tom. Bilius noticed Hermione's state of mind and how her hair seemed to bristle.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" He asked, worried.

She smiled at the worried, chivalrous expression of Ectur and Bilius that made her remember how Fred and George were when they heard Draco calling her a mudblood.

To calm them down, she placed one hand on Bilius's forearm and another on Ectur's shoulder.

"I am fine. Don't worry," Said. She wanted to feel more confident than how her words sounded. It's really hard to feel safe with Voldemort so lose, she thought.

"Did Riddle do something to you?" It's Ectur who asked.

Oh, he did - will do - many things, she wanted to say. However, trying to bring some enmity to the young Dark Lord didn't seem the best survival tactic and so she denied.

"No, he didn't do anything," she replied. "He was actually very considerate," she emphasized, but the last words didn't sound so true to her.

"If something happens, tell us, okay?" Bilius says.

"It's true. If you need anything, talk to us." Ectur reaffirms.

Hermione smiles at the Gryffindor spirit they had.

Hermione is much calmer for her upcoming classes to be with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but as soon as she has time, she goes to meet Dumbledore. She takes a deep breath and knocks on the door of the Deputy Headmaster's office. The door opened by itself.

"Good morning, Miss Granger. What do I owe the honor of your visit?" Dumbledore asks. "I hope your first day is going well."

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore." She greets him. "Everything is going very well. All the teachers and students welcomed me very well," Hermione says. "My visit is not for a complaint. It's another request for help." She explained. "Again," Hermione laughs, a little embarrassed.

"What is it about?" He looks at her over his half-moon glasses.

"I wish you would teach me Occlumency ."

" Occlumency ?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly very interested and curious about the girl's desire. "I want you to know, Miss Granger, that you're safe in Hogwarts. What would be the need to learn Occlumency? Do you want to tell me something?"

Hermione passes her tongue through her dry lips.

"I know I am safe here and that I have your protection, Professor Dumbledore. I also know that you are aware of how important it is that my mind is to be safe. My mind has information that many wizards and witches would kill to have. I have the knowledge of the future and walk unprotected until I come back to my time, it worries me," she explains. "I'm worried about Grindelwald. If my arrival with Harry really did cause an alarm in the wizarding world, Grindelwald must also have felt." She looked uncertainty. "I'm getting ready to get advanced information on the Magic of the Time and I'd love for you to help me. If the magic that was used to bring me here was from the Dark Arts, the answer to take me back is also."

"The Dark Arts, my child, should not be underestimated. Though at first innocent, the temptation in them may corrupt"

"I know." Hermione looks determined. "But my desire to do good and protect the people I love is greater."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, impressed by the strength of the words she chose.

"I know the basic of Occlumency, but I don't think it's enough." She's sincere. "Please, Professor Dumbledore, think of what I said. I really appreciate all the help I can get. "

She said goodbye to him, before leaving the room and going to lunch in the Great Hall.

When she sits at the table, Enid asks.

"Where were you?"

"I had some problems to solve," Hermione responds. "But I hope everything is right."

She serves up some food for her, watching with a bit of good envy, Enid and Algie together. If she and Ron had confessed their love before, they would have enjoyed more. _Probably yes._ It wouldn't have Lavender Brown or Viktor Krum, or jealousy and offenses, or crying. It would have been so much better. But of course, it's common for people to talk only about what they feel when they think they're close to the end, and now she condemns herself for all the fear she felt for telling Ron about her feelings for fear of being rejected. Now she realizes she acted like a fool.

"Argh, I'm screwed in Transfiguration classes." Fred Longbottom complains beside her.

"What happened?" Hermione asks.

" Transfiguration is one of the most important matters and I cannot even finish my essay." Hermione can hear the desperation in Fred's voice.

"Your essay is with you?" She asked and Fred confirmed, handing her the parchments.

Hermione reads, ignoring her food for a moment. For her, a third-year essay is easy, but she understands the desperation of Fred. When she was in the same year that he is, she was like that too. His essay is not bad, in fact, it's very good, just a few mistakes, but nothing too scary. Dumbledore will probably like what will see from Fred.

"It's very good," she reassured Fred. "You should focus more on vertebrate animals. They are the biggest challenge when it comes to the spell Evanesco. If you can do that, then nothing will stop you in the matter of Transfiguration when it comes to your turn to do the OWL's. "

When she finished, Ectur was looking at her.

"Why didn't you come earlier, Hermione? I really need some help with my OWL's " He spoke a lot like Ron.

"You mean you're a Know-It-All?" Bilius looked at her, a smile, opening on his face. "Good to know."

"And now they'll be on your feet." Algie laughed.

"Please, let the girl breathe." Ignatius was laughing too. He leaned against the table. "So, Hermione... Are you good at Defense Against the Dark Arts?" He murmured.

Hermione laughed softly. That sounded a lot like her time with Harry and Ron, when everyone came to ask her about something. Some things don't seem to change.

The next morning, during a free period, Hermione passed in the library, meeting Madame Imogen Gleeson. She went straight to advanced magic books, taking the book of Spell Potions and the Advanced Potion-Making because perhaps the person who attacked her bathed the medallion in some potion and used some spell to complete it. She got the book of Spells, Extreme Incantations and Abracadabra. She tried to find something that might be referring to the Magic of Time, but there was nothing.

She tried to get the Moste Potent Potions, but Madame Imogen requested the permission. She could ask Dumbledore or Slughorn, but she wanted the book now. She begged a little, saying it was for her OWL's. Madame Imogen authorized, however, that the book was with another student, in the end, Hermione had to wait.

It was then that she remembered the most terrible and dreaded book - Secrets of the Darkest Art - that was with her all the time inside her handbag. She took the books she requested at the library and went straight to the female dormitory, grabbed her bag and looked around. She couldn't read that book in the library or in a place with much access, where people would see what kind of book it was, so she took everything she needed and went to the Astronomy Tower, which was empty at that time.

In a 'safe place' she finally holds the locket around her neck. She looks at him a little fearful and curious, at first she thought it was some sort of heavy medallion with the Time-Turner built-in, but no, it was actually a locket. The Time-Turner's hourglass stood in the middle, the sand in the hourglass was emerald green and was interestingly divided equally into both sides of the hourglass.

The locket was silver, there was a pattern in the circles around the hourglass - they were still perfect circles, however, in a twisted pattern, like Celtic circles. And around the Time-Turner were words, words she didn't understand. They were vowels followed by vowels and many 's' and 'h'.

Hermione tries to move the hourglass, but nothing seems to make the hourglass move. It's when Hermione's brilliant mind put together all the initial pieces of the puzzle.

Every 'click' that the Time-Turner made meant a decade. They totaled five clicks, meaning five decades into the past. On the last turn, the hourglass stopped in the middle. Five and a half decades. Fifty-five years. This Time-Turner is different and the person who created it, wanted her to be right where she is, she realized.

Rules, she needs rules to not make mistakes. What were the mistakes she's already made? A little desperate, she picked up the parchment and a quill and began to write:

1) **Hermione Granger** \- _I gave my real name._

It was an innocent mistake, she was surprised to see Dumbledore and gave her real name.

2) **Harry** \- Important! _Harry's identity must be kept confidential, not just for who he is and will be. If You-Know-Who to know who he is and the danger he poses to the future of this person, You-Know-Who will try to kill him sooner. It's also important so that the information doesn't clash with other people of his family. He is now Harry Evans._

3) **Find a cure for Harry?** _I don't know what Harry has. I need to visit him at St. Mungo's. I think it has to do with You-Know-Who._

4) **The locket is the key.** \- _It was a special spell cast on Time-Turner. For all the spells a counterspell is needed or I'll have to create one. But in order for me to create a counterspell, I need to know the basics of the spell that was used._

Hermione stopped writing, again grabbing the locket around her neck. She looks at the locket, narrowing her eyes... Parseltongue!

"The spell was in Parseltongue, the words around are in parseltongue". There's a tone of happiness in her voice that soon undoes as she realizes what she has just said.

 _Oh, I'm so screwed_ , Hermione thought. She would never be able to translate what was written in the Time-Turner, she wasn't a Parselmouth. The only person who could do that was the Dark Lord - Tom Riddle.

 _Hello, . Could you do me a favor? You can translate what's written in this Time-Turner so that I can go back to my time and try to kill your future self because you are a dark wizard and want me dead._ She snorted at that thought.

Obviously, she couldn't ask for help to him with that. If what she remembers is correct, Riddle never told to anyone that he is a Parselmouth. The only people who knew about his skill were Dumbledore and his followers - she still has some doubt.

It would be very strange for her to ask for his help when he had never said he could talk with the snakes. Especially after the attacks came and they were looking for the Slytherin Heir.

Tom Riddle would kill her before she could say 'Ah!'.

 _How will I translate?_ She wondered.

With a little headache, she took the parchment which she noted the important steps she would have to follow and cast an _Incendio_ , observing the parchment catch fire and fall in ashes.

After collecting her things, Hermione was walking down the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, when she heard voices. By reflex, she hid.

There were two people, arguing eagerly. One of the voices she recognized as Alphard's.

"Walburga, that's enough," Alphard said.

"That's important, Alphard!" She questioned him again. "He hasn't received the letter yet."

"Merlin, Wally! You know how it works. Cygnus's birthday is during our vacation. He'll get the letter. "

" What if he doesn't get it? What if he's a squib !?" Walburga's tone increased.

"What if he is?" He questioned. "He's still our brother."

"What are you saying, Alphard? I don't have a squib sibling. If he is a squib, Mom and Dad will throw him away! "

"Take back what you said, Wally." Alphard ordered. "Take it back, now!"

"No!"

"Wally, you do everything to be unbearable, you know?" Alphard grunted. "Cy is not a squib. He's done some accidental magic, remember? "

"He better not be. Have you thought about the shame it would be for us if our friends knew that our younger brother is a squib? "

"Merlin, Wally is enough! Cy being a squib or not, is not the reason for me to thank every night. Do you know what really makes me thank every night? That I'm not going to have to marry you." He shuddered at the thought. "Thank God our cousins had Orion Black and you're engaged to him. That's what I thank every night. "

" You're cruel, Alphard." She responded after a while absorbing his words, her voice a little tearful.

"Am I?" He replied petulantly. "Which one of us was trying to throw our little brother in the Muggle world?"

"You idiot!" She pushed him, before leaving with a firm and strong steps.

Hermione heard the whole conversation, trying to control her breathing. _Incest… If Orion Black had not been born, the Black family, with their fanaticism for the purity of blood, would marry Alphard and Walburga_. She swallowed hard with that thought.

She waited a while, not hearing anything else, she came out of her hiding place.

"It's very rude to hear other people's conversation, Miss Granger." Alphard stood there, motionless, leaning loosely against the wall with arms crossed.

Hermione looked at him with uncertainty, she opened and closed her mouth like a fish, the books she carried, weighing in her arms. She had been caught in the act.

"So ...?" He raised one eyebrow.

She squeezed her jaw and her lips became a thin line and she swallowed.

"I didn't want to hear it," she admitted. "Was an accident. I was leaving the Astronomy Tower when you two showed up. Instinctively, I hid, but I didn't want to hear. "

He nodded as if thinking of the answer she gave.

"You didn't become one of those crazy fans, did you?" He asked, very indiscreetly.

"Excuse me?" She frowned.

"You know just what I'm talking about. These girls who are chasing us and hiding." He gestured with a grimace, then loosened his tie.

"Wait ... What?" She looked at him in disbelief. _Their pride is so great that they think they own the world and all people would fall at their feet?_ Hermione was referring to Alphard and the rest of Riddle's gang.

A minute of silence passed, they were silent, and then Alphard began to laugh.

"You should see your face," he said almost breathlessly. His attitude only made Hermione have a poker face.

"I know you didn't want to listen," Alphard said after he had calmed down. "You don't look like one of the stalker girls."

"Do you have a double personality?" Hermione asked, really serious, which made Alphard laugh again.

"Oh, Merlin, you're going to kill me."

Hermione ignored him and started walking, making her way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Hey, hey, wait! Let me help you. " He took half of the books she was carrying before she could stop him.

They walked in silence for a while, Hermione glanced at him a few times, realizing that he looked more serious and sad. A great contrast to the laughter he was giving a few moments ago.

"Are you okay?" She asked and he shrugged. "You want to talk about it?" She was referring to the conversation he had with his sister.

"You're pretty curious, aren't you?" It's a rhetorical question, he sighed and then spoke. "It's the same as always. Wally shouting, an exaggerated concern for Cy and the fear of shame." He rolls his eyes. "But it's just the Black family."

Alphard didn't know why he was opening up to the freshman, but somehow she seemed to be more trusting than his housemates. However, anyone seemed to be more trusting.

"That's not very Slytherin," she murmured. "I thought you loved the names of your families and the connections."

"And what do you know about the Slytherins, freshman?"

"Well, the Gryffindors speak." She shrugged.

They both smiled at each other. That's basically how it started. It was the beginning of a strange friendship. They didn't speak in public, she was still talking more with Bilius, Ectur, Enid, Algie, Ignatius, Lyall, and Fred. But sometimes, when she was alone and he just showed up, Alphard would sit next to her and talk about anything.

He realized she was some sort of Know-it-All and library rat. She always had books, always reading and seemed to be doing some kind of research. She also always seemed focused and sometimes frustrated. She really didn't give a damn about the fame that Alphard and the others had and when he was accompanied by his housemates, she didn't even give him a second look.

In one morning that all the students were excited to go to Hogsmeade, that the Daily Prophet newspaper ad.

 **IS GRINDELWALD CLOSER?**

 **The Ministry of Magic says there is no danger and they are working on the capture of the dark wizard Grindelwald. However, there are reports and indications that contradict this version. Where's the truth?**

But obviously, no one paid much attention. Bilius and Ectur were trying to persuade Hermione to join them and the others, but she refused, saying she was tired.

Was true, she was tired of reading and researching and her encounters with Dumbledore. Her head was aching, Harry hadn't yet been discharged and her efforts didn't seem to be leading anywhere.

She was really reluctant to go, but she thought that a walk in some 'different' environment might help her with her headache or maybe give some idea. In the end, after dressing, she went to Hogsmeade alone.

 **o0o**

"My lord." Was Lestrange, who spoke. "Here is the letter I received from my father about the information you wanted."

Lestrange hands the letter to Tom, who was sitting in his favorite armchair in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room.

He reads the letter with extreme interest, the frustration appearing in his features when he locks his jaw and his eyebrows drop.

 _Nothing! There's nothing about her in the Ministry!_

He crumpled the letter before his hand caught fire and burned the paper in his hand. Lestrange swallowed, nervously.

He considered himself a reasonably patient person. Tom knows that to achieve his goals, he has to be a patient person, but it was really frustrating to deal with Hermione Granger.

He was the golden student, the perfect and considerate boy for her. He smiled so much that once his cheeks get sore. He played the role of a young gentleman very well, but nothing seemed to enchant her.

Started with Slughorn, who served him well. Slughorn practically gave it to him, Hermione Granger. Placing her next to him in the classroom, and so did the other teachers, when it was a Gryffindor / Slytherin class. Tom thought that would make it easier for him to get close to her, but it wasn't that easy.

She didn't speak more than necessary, she didn't look at him, she avoided contact. She was afraid of him.

Tom cracked his neck.

So, he was an observer of her attitudes. How she managed to fall on Dumbledore's good graces without doing anything. Was in a class that Dumbledore told her:

"Miss Granger, about those private lessons you asked for, we started this afternoon, during your free period."

Her eyes flashed and a smile took over her face.

"Thank you so much, Professor Dumbledore. I'll be in your office at this time," She replied with excitement.

He noticed every time she met Dumbledore and how Dumbledore trusted her so much that he gave her free access to enter the Deputy Headmaster's office.

But the interesting thing was that she wasn't an idiot. When she was asked, she answered the question with confidence and wisdom, but if she could avoid being the center of attention, she avoided it. It's like she doesn't want to be noticed.

During the Dueling Club class that Hermione showed a little of her potential. The Club was led by professor Galatea, a teacher experienced in DADA, but what Hermione thought of the Club was summarized as shame.

She was really annoyed by the students' behavior. While most girls preferred to watch, those who tried to participate were treated as if they were made of glass when they were dueling against a boy. They cast the most basic and simple spells with a false pretext of 'I don't want to hurt you,' when they actually underestimated their opponents and laughed when the girls were hit by some spell.

But of course, the Feminist Movement hadn't yet reached the , despite her irritation, Hermione didn't intend to participate in some duel, but when Professor Galatea called her to perform a duel, Bilius and Ectur asked if she was okay with it and she raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Dolohov, one step ahead, please. Be gentle to duel with Miss Granger." Galatea spoke, gesturing with her hand for Dolohov to approach. He smiled very convincing manner, in his Slytherin robes.

Hermione's heart stopped for a few beats. Antonin Dolohov, the culprit of her having such ugly scar, that crossed her breasts and went towards her lower back. It seems that in the end, some fights don't seem to change the characters.

Hermione admits she's afraid of him. Dolohov is known for being a brilliant duelist and for a fleeting moment she wants to tell Professor Galatea that she doesn't want to fight, but the anger she feels about him is greater. Merlin, she has a grudge against Dolohov.

She reflexively ran her fingers between her breasts, remembering of the scar. Hermione felt the weight of Harry's wand in her hand. Is the first time she'd test the connection between her and Harry's wand.

She looked at the wand.

Tom saw it. When Galatea announced that Dolohov was going to duel against Granger, he had to restrain himself from laughing. Dolohov was an exceptional pupil, very good at dueling and a loyal follower. He felt sorry for Granger, of course, if he could describe like this.

He looked at her and watched her trace a path through the space between her breasts. For some reason, he took a deep breath when he saw the gesture. She looked at her wand, _perhaps a little fearful?_ But the next look she gave was fierce and fearless.

She began to take her robe off Gryffindor and handed it to Ectur Prewett, who stared at her astonished.

Like a boy, she began to roll the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbow and moved her shoulders as if trying to relax. Dolohov raised an eyebrow, still with a very convinced attitude.

Tom glanced at the movement of her skirt, which rose slightly with every step she gave while climbed the few steps to enter the duel area.

He watched her gaze at Dolohov and how her rosy lips became a thin line. Her uncontrollable hair seemed more bristling and electrifying and he felt the reason behind it. _Magic_. She was releasing magic. Strong Magic, and it chills the hairs of his arms.

Dolohov was underestimating her and no matter how Tom understood that she could be potentially different, he still bet Dolohov would win the match.

"I promise to be gentle, Miss Granger," Dolohov spoke, bowing, but everything Hermione heard was a sort of teasing and she didn't respond.

It was just too fast. Five seconds, at most. She was ready. Before Dolohov could say Expelliarmus, she cast a Stupefy. The force of the spell lifted Dolohov and threw him back in a spinning move. All the students followed with their heads, Dolohov stopping across the room. Everyone in the room was silent.

"Impossible," Rosier muttered beside Tom.

 _One of my best followers finished in seconds_ , Tom thought. Everyone watched as she walked to the middle of the room, while a groggy Dolohov tried to stand up. With a gesture and a non-verbal spell, Dolohov's wand flies to Hermione's hand.

She looked at Dolohov from above, his wand in her left hand. She had an immense desire to break his wand in two, but all she did was leave his wand there, on the floor.

Tom Riddle inclined his head, his eyes were in that strange gray-green color as he watched her turn away from Dolohov. She was graced by her housemates, but she didn't look so happy, just smiling gently at the comments.

Dolohov humiliated the Slytherin House, losing to Granger in a few seconds. Tom would have a special conversation with Dolohov tonight in the Room of Requirement.

"Why did you lose to Granger?" Tom asked again, the Room of Requirement was occupied with him and his followers, who were silent, observing with a strange pleasure, Dolohov being tortured. Some of them had a smirk on their faces.

"Because I underestimated her," Dolohov replied in a hoarse voice of so much screaming.

"It's quite obvious, isn't it? How many times did I say that people shouldn't be underestimated? It doesn't matter if it's a man or woman. You were just an idiot. How can you not perform a simple Expelliarmus ?" Tom sighed and then, "Crucio," He talked like he was saying the weather was hot.

Dolohov screamed and struggled with the effect of the spell. After what seemed an eternity, Tom stopped.

"I'm worried," He said, his gaze to his followers who until then, were not in trouble with him. "I wondered if you were all like Dolohov."

Nott and Mulciber swallowed hard, the smile fading from their faces.

"So I asked myself, why not train more?" Tom continued. "Let's practice some very dark spells, so you don't make the same mistake as our dear Dolohov."

"What should we practice, my lord?" Abraxas asked.

"Isn't obvious? We have a perfect guinea pig right here." Tom pointed to Dolohov. "No one leaves here until I'm sure everyone is fit. Until I say that's enough. Until I'm tired."

It was a long night for Dolohov.

* * *

 **-** **Notechis scutatus is also known as Tiger Snake. The fifth most poisonous snake in the world.**


	6. Chapter 5 Naja Oxiana

**\- Remembering that English is not my mother tongue, but I worked hard, so I hope the text is readable to you. Let me know if the text is good. Or if I need to fix something**

* * *

 _Chapter 5. Naja Oxiana_ \- _Act like a guy._

The Clock Tower Courtyard area was apparently empty on that sunny afternoon. Most of the students were studying for the OWL's inside their Common Room, but Tom Riddle was standing there and listening to the love confession of a Hufflepuff girl. She had her hair in caramel tones, freckles on her nose and cheeks and hazel eyes.

 _She wasn't ugly, and she was brave enough_ , Tom had to admit.

Most people didn't have the determination to come face to face with a love letter, but here was this girl, handing him a letter, while timidly talking about her feelings.

What a romantic place, Tom thought with disdain and irony. Just near the old fountain on a sunny day.

The girl lowered her eyes, not having enough courage to look at him, running her tongue over her lips and stammering. Probably the girl's heart was beating extremely fast.

Now that the girl wasn't looking, Tom let the 'good guy' mask fall, revealing the look he gave to her, which conveyed anger and disgust. It was then that he had heard a sigh. The girl in front of him didn't notice that, she was very focused on talking about her feelings and too nervous to be attuned to the environment around her, but Tom listened. He looked up from the girl and saw her ... Hermione Granger.

She was standing there, a few feet from where Tom and the Hufflepuff girl were. Granger had a frightened look, her mouth a little open, holding a book tightly against her chest, her hair around her - loose and unmanageable.

He blinked and she turned around quickly, almost running, very frightened. It was then that Tom knew, she saw; She watched as he took off his mask and revealed the true emotions he had. She saw it and got scared. _She knows._

She avoided him for the rest of the day and Tom knew he had to get close to her to know how much she saw or how much she knows.

It's really funny how fate plays in his favor. At night, while doing a patrol as Prefect, he saw her leaving the library with some books and parchments, she was still on time, but it was perfect for him to have her alone.

"Miss Granger."

She startled and slowly looked over her shoulder through a few strands of her uncontrollable hair, hugging the books against her chest.

"Mr. Riddle," She greeted him.

"Let me help you." Tom steps forward and she backs away.

"No need." She refuses quickly.

"Please, I insist. Let me escort you to Gryffindor Tower. "

Granger actually seemed reluctant to let him accompany her, but in the end, she relented. He wanted to walk more slowly so he could have time to inquire her, but she accelerated her steps, always looking forward.

"We haven't talked much since you arrived, Miss Granger. I must say that I expected you to be in Slytherin, but I hope the Gryffindors are receiving you well." He tried to talk to her, but all he received was silence. "You were a Hatstall, which is very interesting. You're the first student I know to be a Hatstall."

" Hm." That was the only answer she gave.

"By the way, what you did at the Dueling Club was impressive. I admit that Dolohov was a little angry, but it's all his fault. He was not ready for you." Tom bites his lower lip. "But I think teachers do it on purpose, you know? Put the Houses to fight against each other. I think they like to feed the rivalry between the Houses, as for example: Gryffindor against Slytherin. You against Dolohov. It's bullshit, isn't it? "

" Certainly," she answers.

She really difficult my side, Tom thinks.

"You seem to be a very studious person, I realize. But don't you worry about stress? Because I do. Sometimes we take so much responsibility that we get stressed, don't we? It happens to me sometimes; for example, today. I was so tired, but I still wanted to pay attention to the lady who was talking to me. "

Okay, he had thrown the words, waiting for her answer. He smiled internally.

He noticed as she began to breathe more quickly and as she began to paler, he stopped her, holding her by the arm.

"Miss Granger, are you okay?" He asked with false concern.

Her eyes grew larger as she saw how close he was to her. At first, he really thought it was a waste of time, but when she got really pale and started to sweat cold, he understood that she would faint right there. Tom released the books he carried and placed a hand on the back of her neck, her expression becoming a mixture of anger and dread, but that was not what caught his attention, it was how his magic reacted to her.

A kind of charge of energy passed between them and Tom took his hand from her skin quickly. Something seemed to warm the palm of Tom's hand and he closed it and opened his hand a few times. Tom's magic reacted invitingly and he tilted his head, moving closer to her.

She put herself against the wall.

"Interesting, Miss Granger," he murmured softly, much more interested in the reason why this had happened.

"Mr. Riddle, I believe your behavior is not acceptable." She stammered, referred to his closeness.

The two of them stared at each other as they heard footsteps. Slughorn was just a few feet away, a silly grin on his face and cheeks and the tip of his nose slightly rosy. He turned and walked away, giggling like a fool, without giving Hermione and Tom the chance to explain themselves.

 _Oh, shit,_ Tom thought.

Time enough for Hermione to collect her things that had fallen and run away from Tom.

Tom returned to the dungeons after the patrol, his thoughts with the sensations and images of Hermione Granger. The noise of the Bloody Baron's chains made the dungeons darker than they really were and it was true that the students had a pre-concept of dungeons and Slytherins, almost always avoiding walking around these areas, which in the end, gave freedom to the Slytherins.

Tom murmured the password, the wall moved and opened space for him to pass. His followers were gathered in the Common Room, Mulciber was trying to heal Dolohov who was still injured after the night in the Room of Requirement.

"You're a horrible mediwizard," Dolohov complained.

"I wouldn't need to heal you if you were not an idiot." Mulciber countered Dolohov's comment.

Angrily, Dolohov tried to grab the collar of Mulciber's shirt, but the movement was very quick and caused more discomfort.

"Granger will pay me." Dolohov threatened.

"You're mad about because you lost to Granger. Pathetic, Dolohov. She's a girl." Lestrange looked down at Dolohov, a petulant smile on his face.

"Are you all dumb?" It was Malfoy's turn to speak. "She's different."

"I admit she's a strange girl. Have you seen how she behaves?" Avery said.

"That's not what I'm referring to." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Dolohov lost not only because he is an idiot. The girl came from the war, that's what was said. "

"In any case, what Granger did will not go unpunished," Dolohov argued.

Tom listened to the conversation of his Housemates in silence.

"I like her," Alphard said out of nowhere.

As Alphard commented, everyone turned his head toward him, including Tom.

"Alphard, are you serious?" Nott asked, there was a tone of laughter in his voice as if he didn't believe what he was hearing.

Alphard shrugged.

"So many girls out there and you like Granger?" Rosier raised an eyebrow.

"What? She's still a girl. She's different, she doesn't wear make-up, she has wild hair and freckles on her cheeks and nose, apparently, she has a nice body and she's smart." Alphard shrugged again. "Have I told you that she beat Dolohov in a duel?" Everyone laughed at Alphard's comment, except for Tom. "It's something new. It's refreshing. Even if to kill time."

That night, Hermione's thoughts were turbulent.

 _The locket reacted to Tom Riddle,_ she thought. _Obviously he would react to him, it is likely to be a Time-Turner that Salazar Slytherin himself created. But why would Voldemort have ordered one of his followers to put Time-Turner in a mudblood? Something that can be a family heirloom? It doesn't make sense, unless he wanted to make sure his younger version knew the future and changed what he might call "a mistake."_

"Oh, no." she murmured, hugging the pillow.

When Riddle touched her, the cord holding the locket warmed in her neck. It wasn't bad and it wasn't good. It was kind of a reflex of magic.

 **o0o**

Tom was lying face down on his poster-bed, the green curtains surrounding the bed was closed, giving him privacy. Tom's raven hair was clinging to his forehead because of the sweat, he was frowning and his lips were tight. Tom was dreaming. The eyes were moving behind the eyelids.

 _You're special, Tom. You're different._

Tom had awakened, his green eyes were frightened, and his breath was racing. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Suddenly the room had gotten too hot for him, must be courtesy of early summer. Quickly, he started unbuttoning his pajama shirt and threw his clothes on the foot of the bed. He is usually organized with the few things he owns, but this time he doesn't give a shit.

He had a strange preference for dreaming when he was asleep, but for some reason, the dream without images he had just had disturbed him. The female voice that had spoken to him was still tormenting his senses.

 _My mom?_ He wondered, questioning the identity of the voice.

His feelings about his mother are complicated, partly he doesn't care about her and considers her weak for giving up magic because of a Muggle, there is a trace of rancor in what he feels for her. **He had not been enough to make her want to live.**

On the other hand, he admires what she gave him without thinking. She gave him the purest magical blood that has ever existed. And even though he is disregarded by who she was, he doesn't accept anyone speaking shit about his mother or his family - **The Gaunts**.

From what he has researched, he understands how disgusting and humiliating the Gaunt family was, but if all he planned was going to work, Tom wants to put an end to what's left of the Riddles and Gaunts on his summer vacation.

In the morning, everyone was getting ready to go to Hogsmeade, the last weekend before the OWL's. Virginia Flint was surrounding Tom, hoping he would invite her to go along with him and the others to Hogsmeade when she didn't receive an invitation from Tom, she went to Lestrange. Of course, Lestrange with a smile said that they might meet while they were there, but that he first wanted to have fun with his friends.

Rosier coughed to hide his laughter, and Mulciber bit his lower lip. If wore skirts, Lestrange would take it. But what the girl Flint did not know is that he'd said the same thing to three different girls. Avery raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Lestrange shrugged, after Virginia Flint left. "It wasn't me who called her to go to Hogsmeade, she came to me because she wanted to."

"You're terrible." Nott shook his head, smiling at Lestrange's attitude.

So they left their Common Room and went to Hogsmeade.

 **o0o**

Currently, Hermione was in the Hog's Head Inn, drinking the second glass of Firewhisky, some bags of the Honeydukes store were next to her.

The Hog's Head Inn was, fortunately, empty except for her. The emptiness of the room seemed to match the way she felt and the glass of Firewhisky. She didn't think she was getting into any kind of depression, though she often got sad about her situation, she couldn't say that she was the happiest girl ever. When she entered through the pub door, she raised an eyebrow to the pool table that was there in the corner and dusty. This wasn't something she remembered that had in the Hog's Head Inn in her time, but it's possible that Aberforth threw the table away after realizing the little use.. _After all, what wizard would play with something so Muggle?_ She asked to herself with irony...

Hermione sighed and drank the rest of the liquid from her glass. She had seen Alphard and the rest of Riddle's gang earlier, when she had left Honeydukes, Tom and the others had not noticed her presence - which she had been grateful for - but Alphard noticed. They nodded each other from a distance and went their own way. She, alone and he with Tom and the others.

Alphard had asked her once about her behavior when he was with his friends, Hermione had just said:

"I find them a bit intimidating. Don't get me wrong, Alphard, but sometimes I'm afraid of them. I respect you wanting to walk with them, but I will not."

He respected this and made no further comments.

Hermione was about to leave, when the Hog's Head Inn door was opened, laughter and conversation, Tom and his followers. Hermione froze in her seat, the conversation and playfulness stopped for a moment when they noticed her presence.

"Miss Granger," Tom said, his footsteps were heard as he approached where Hermione was. She was still on her back, staring at the bottom of the glass she was holding. She heard more footsteps and felt as they spread through the surroundings of the Hog's Head Inn.

She glanced over her shoulder, analyzing them. Avery and Dolohov were near the door, Nott and Mulciber near the tables and the windows on the left, Black and Rosier were near the pool table, Tom was right near her left side, Abraxas was on her right side.

 _Shit_ , they surrounded her. Hermione glanced at Alphard. _It was him. He saw where I was going and brought them here._ Even though I was afraid of them. Alphard betrayed her.

 _So, this the good uncle of Sirius? He's a son of a_...

"Well, gentlemen, I was just leaving," she says, picking up Honeydukes' bags.

"Oh no, Miss Granger. Please accompany me in a drink." Tom took her arm gently, but didn't let her escape.

He was silent for a moment, she looked around and sighed in defeat.

"A glass. After all, a girl shouldn't be long in coming back to a safe place when it's night, right?" She said the last words with irony.

Riddle released her arm as she turned. She had not settled, still standing. As soon as he entered, he realized. Granger was wearing strange clothes. A pair of strange blue pants, very tight on her legs, defining her thighs and calves. Her hair was in a clumsy bun, she wore a dark blue summer sweater and strange boots, much like the men wore in the Muggle War.

But she smelled good. The perfume - if she was wearing one - was soft and delicate, however, irresistible.

Tom looked at Granger's hand, noticing the chocolate bags she carried.

"Chocolates, Miss Granger?"

She looked down at the bags.

"Yes, it's irresistible."

"A girl, after all." Abraxas commented and Lestrange laughed.

"What do you mean?" She glared at Malfoy.

"Don' t mind with them. I also like chocolates," Tom said.

Hermione moved in her bags and pulled out a bar of chocolate and handed it to Riddle. _Who knows, he'll leave me alone._

Tom raised an eyebrow, but picked up the bar anyway.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. On the night before -" Tom cannot finish his sentence, because the two cups were placed respectively in front of each. Tom took his glass and brought it to his lips, but didn't even drink. He was very impressed with how quickly Granger took the glass and drank the liquid in a few seconds in a single gulp.

Tom had a strange expression, Abraxas was astonished.

 _She drank like a boy. Like a man,_ Tom thought. _Weren't the women supposed to drink gently?_

After finishing, Hermione wiped her lips against her hand. Alphard laughed after a time when they all stared at Granger.

"Hermione, you're awesome." Alphard clapped a hand and she glanced at him.

 _Hermione?_ Tom was surprised that Alphard had called her by her first name.

"Well, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I'm going" She hurried. "Thanks for the drink, Riddle."

"Hermione," Alphard called out. "Play with me." He pointed to the pool table.

"What is this?" Malfoy asked.

"It's a pool table," Alphard explained.

"And what this thing do?" It was Rosier who spoke.

 _Oh, they don't know. They live so much in their pure-blooded world that they don't know what it is._

"She doesn't do anything," Hermione explained to Rosier, Tom looked at her.

"It's a Muggle game," Alphard continued. "So, let's play, Hermione?"

 _Son of a...! He doubts my blood status. He's manipulating me,_ Hermione realized.

"How do you know this game, Alphard?" Nott asked.

"Is that serious?" Alphard slapped Nott's head. "There are those who say that those who don't know about things don't know how to defend themselves."

"And how does playing a Muggle game make you smarter, Alphard?" Avery asked.

"It's a way of saying, Avery. However, Muggles do some cool things. "Alphard shrugs.

"A Muggle lover, that's what we have here." Lestrange rolled his eyes.

Hermione was trying to escape as fast as she could to get out of that place. She didn't like the direction this conversation was going and didn't like the look Dolohov was giving her.

"So, Hermione, let's play?" He asked again.

"I don't know how to play," she lied.

"It's very simple, put all the balls in the holes and don't let the white ball go together." He looked at her. "If you want I can teach you"

Alphard summarized very badly how the game worked, he also had no idea how the game worked, but that's fine. She was silent.

"Come on, Miss Granger, play with Alphard. Help the heart of this poor boy who loves you." Lestrange spoke indelicately, laughing, and slapping Alphard on the shoulder. With his comment, the boys made a noise. "Everyone knows he likes you."

Hermione, like the others, approached the table. Tom was still close to her, looking with interest as to where this was going. He watched as her gaze darkened and how she snorted at Lestrange's comment.

"Of course." She picked up a pool cue, holding it with her right hand, while the fingers of her left hand dragged through the pool table slowly.

"Everyone knows you love me, isn't it Alphard?" She said, walking patiently around the table, past Tom - who followed her with his eyes - Abraxas, Rosier, and Avery. "Yes, everyone knows," she murmured scornfully, heading toward Alphard. "You're really very loyal." She was face to face with Alphard, Lestrange made a funny face.

Hermione stared at Alphard for a moment before leaning against the pool table with her pool cue stick. Tom looked at how her pants seemed to tighten even more in the right places when she made that move. In one play, Hermione managed to score, but she didn't want to stay there any longer.

"I'm sorry, Alphard, I really don't know how to play this game."

She was not really referring to playing pool, but to that kind of manipulation game that Alphard was getting her into.

Angrily, she picks up the chocolates, walking through Dolohov, but before she can make the move to open the door, something catches her attention through the window. She retraced a few steps, narrowing her eyes and looking at the men in black, Hermione lets the chocolate bags fall, Tom goes to her side and looks in the same direction as she looks, he also narrows his eyes.

Hermione knows when problems will come. She is aware of when there are people who want to do something wrong and are looking for something and right now, these five men who are wanting to enter the pub are reminding her very well of the Death Eaters.

Tom and Hemione exchanged glances.

"Problems." The two murmur together.

In a quick move she turns around, Aberforth is coming down the stairs, she looks around and goes to a window leading back to the pub, without a second thought, she opens and walks out the window.

Tom and the others observe Hermione's movements. Tom also doesn't think twice, he also does the same thing as her. If there's anything he cherishes, it's survival.

When they see their leader coming out of the pub, everyone else walks through the window as well.

Tom is waiting for them and watching Hermione walk away with quick steps. She is walking towards the fork of the road that crosses the Forbidden Forest.

"What's going on?" Malfoy asks.

Before anyone can respond, an explosion of magic occurs, everyone bows down by a simple act of reflex.

"Aberforth ..." Hermione murmured, her eyes wide. There was a fight going on inside the pub.

But none of them has much to think about, because three of the five men who entered the pub are out there looking at them. Hermione knows better than to stay, she runs towards the path that crosses the Forbidden Forest.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Avery shouts.

For some reason, they begin to follow Granger or maybe it was because of her she was going to the only place that seemed to be an escape.

Tom is good at everything he does. So if he's running, he's fast. The boys soon seem to have an advantage over Granger, running faster. Alphard, Rosier, Dolohov, and Tom are leading the race, but the most impressive thing for them is that they begin to notice a girl with unruly hair - now loose - reaching them.

She succeeds in passing through Rosier and Alphard, strives to reach Dolohov and is now side by side with Tom. Turning aside from the obstacles and now Tom understands why she wears those masculine-style boots.

Mulciber is falling behind and the pursuers are casting spells on their backs. Hermione stops and with a quick movement, turns around and cast a spell.

"Reducto!" She shouted, her spell saving Mulciber from being caught and seemed to throw the enemies away.

She was breathing quickly when she stopped running. They were all breathing deeply, trying to calm down.

"Who are they ?!" Lestrange demanded.

"I don't know, I don't care." Hermione started walking. Lie, Hermione cared a lot about who those people were and why they seemed to have a specific target.

"Come back here, girl." Dolohov took Hermione's arm.

"Let me go," Hermione ordered.

"Dolohov, release her now," Tom ordered darkly. His temper was changing and all his followers noticed.

They began to walk in silence, heading toward Hogwarts. Could anything be worse than walking alone through the Forbidden Forest with Voldemort and the Death Eaters? Hermione would pay to see.

As they walked, the smell of gasoline became more and more stronger. They were in the field of plants that seemed to release pus.

"It's Bubotuber," Nott explained.

Tom was silent, walking beside Hermione. They hear a grunt from Rosier as he inadvertently stepped on a small Bubotuber and squeezed it, causing the plant to explode pus and dirty his clothes.

Tom smell the burn. Turning slowly, he watches Fiendfyre is coming toward them. The fire element spell seems to intensify in the middle of the gasoline smell that the plants release. A wall of fire separated Tom and Hermione from the others. A kind of fire that no Aquamenti would erase. Both turned to face their enemy.

Tom finally pulled out his wand, holding it firmly in his hand, he gazed darkly from under his lashes, letting his magic come alive and run free. The great amount of power left Hermione shocked. Part of the fire surrounded Tom, working with his magic, shielding him.

But man didn't mind with Tom and turned the tip of his wand toward Hermione, casting a spell in her direction. Hermione raised a shield that protected her and Tom and Tom took the opportunity to attack, using Bombarda. Although his patience was diminishing, he didn't want to use the most dangerous spells in Granger's presence.

As he attacked, making the man pay attention to him, Hermione looked around.

"Carpe Retractum!" A rope of light came from the tip of Hermione's wand and she used it to pull a Bubotuber into the man as if it were a sling. The plant hit the target and exploded pus, running with acid from the eye and on the skin. Hermione took Tom's arm and started to run.

Groaning, Tom let himself be taken by Hermione. He didn't like to leave an unfinished fight, it gave him the same feeling of an itch he couldn't scratch. However, he was almost casting a death spell to end it all at once. They were making a steep descent, when Hermione slipped, rolling down the hill. Tom tried to catch her, but she carried him along in her fall.

Tom hits the ground, he grunted in pain from the blow he had hit his head, but what he feels is the weight of Granger's body against his. She is on top of him, one leg on each side and face to face with him. Her eyes are open savagely, her full hair becomes a sort of curtain around them. She is looking directly into his eyes and her breath is very close.

He tried to move her body, but she put her hand in his mouth, making a sign of silence, throwing a Delusion spell over them.

Tom glanced over her shoulder, watching his attacker search for them. She cast a great Delusion spell, he thought.

They were silent and watched the man Apparate. After a moment, Hermione undoes the Delusion spell and moves away from Tom.

Before he can comment, she is already walking. Tom watched her, noticing her pink cheeks.

 _They were after something. No, they were after someone ... Granger?_ _She knows something, she did something and Dumbledore protects her_.

Tom's mind begins to think of theories.

Didn't take too long before they meet the others again. They were gathered, staring at something, when Tom and Hermione are close enough, she makes a shocked noise at what she sees.

"Did you kill a unicorn?" She asked with dread and anger.

"What? Damn! Of course not!" Rosier cursed.

"Manners, Rosier. Have manners." Lestrange yawned.

Suddenly they seemed very calm, as if that run, the fight and almost being hit by a Fiendfyre was just fun.

"It was already dead when we arrived," Malfoy explained.

Nott bent down and conjured a knife and began to cut the hair from the unicorn's tail, then try to cut the horn.

"What are you doing, Nott?" Avery asked.

"You don't have many opportunities like that. Do you know the various potions I can do with unicorn hair and the horn?" He spoke excitedly.

Tom raised one eyebrow.

"What's wrong with you ...?" Hermione muttered.

They turned their heads toward her.

"Oh, Miss Granger, I hope you understand that this is simply academic. My student side can't resist." Nott continued with a smile.

She retreated a few steps, colliding with her back with Dolohov.

"Miss Granger, don't you think I forgot our duel, did you?"

Hermione turned quickly, trying to escape Dolohov's grip.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed and with a non-verbal spell, she made Dolohov's tie tighten more and more against his neck.

At first, Dolohov continued with his grip on Hermione's arm, but he was forced to release as his tie began to tighten around his neck. He gasped and got to his knees, breathing with difficulty. Hermione held on to the spell, her magic spinning around her, moving her hair like the wind.

Tom looked at her a little fascinated by what he was seeing.

"Hermione," Alphard called out. "Hermione, enough! You're going to kill him! "

She left Dolohov and turned his wand toward them.

"He wanted to hurt me!" She told Alphard. "He has the right to do what he wants with me, but I can't return the favor? I saved your ass! "She's hysterical.

Alphard hands raised and approached Hermione.

"It's okay, Hermione. I would never let the Dolohov hurt you." He slowly placed a hand on Hermione's arm that was holding the wand. "Come on, Hermione, let's go back to Hogwarts. It was a very stressful day, wasn't it? "

Avery approached Tom and whispered in his ear. Hermione didn't like it at all.

Hermione moved closer to Alphard, using him as a shield.

"Congratulations, Dolohov. You got one more night with Tom in the Room of Requirement." Mulciber whispered to Dolohov, who was trying to get up, " You lost to Granger again. "

Hermione can't hear because she was already walking with Alphard to Hogwarts, a helpless girl in the midst of snakes.

Everyone was on their way to Hogwarts, Tom approached Hermione almost as they were about to cross the gates of the castle.

"Miss Granger ..." Tom put a hand on the back of Hermione's neck, his hand began to warm, his magic reacting and that strange electric current passed through them, but this time he did not shrink, he looked directly into Hermione's eyes.

Hermione didn't look away, looking into Tom's green eyes.

He looked and looked, but nothing happened. He collided with the mental barrier in her mind. Occlumency. The initial smile that he had, was undone when he realized that he wouldn't be able to take anything from her. She pushed him and entered the gates of Hogwarts, now being in the protection of the castle.

"Try to Obliviate me." She narrowed her eyes.

Before he could move toward her, Professor Galatea ran toward them.

"Are you all right? All the students and teachers were worried about you. You were the only ones who had not returned." Galatea looked at the condition of their clothes. "You were on the attack. There was an attack from Grindelwald in Hogsmeade and in France at the same time. "

" We're fine, Professor. We made our way through the Forbidden Forest to Hogwarts. "

" Great Merlin! "

"We're fine, Professor Merrythought. I just want to go back to my dorm. "Hermione turned her back.

"Miss Granger, allow me to accompany you. It's been a rough night and be all by yourself, it must be stressful for you," Tom said, taking a step toward Hermione. "It's my duty as Prefect."

"No need, Mr. Riddle. I think you've noticed that I know how to take care of myself. "

She turned and started walking toward Gryffindor Tower, a smile appearing on her face. It was only the first clash, but Hermione was glad she was victorious.

Tom's hand clenched into a fist. All this time he underestimated her.

 **o0o**

Her friends were very worried. They asked why she had not gone with them. They asked her how she was and if she was not hurt in any way.

Hermione thanked them for their concern, but she said she was fine. What worried Hermione was the fact that she had a Grindelwald attack on Hogsmeade. She didn't remember. If this was an inopportune event, it meant that her and Harry's presence were changing the time.

The next day she ran away from Riddle and her gang as the devil flees from the cross, as the Muggles would say. But she felt his looks on her, which is why she preferred to be in public and in the company of Ectur and Bilius. But it was when she was alone in the library that Alphard approached her.

"Is everything okay?" He had sat in front of her.

She didn't have the patience for him.

"How did you find out?" She asked, getting right to the point. She looked up from the parchment she was writing, looking at Alphard.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Granger is not a very wizard name, is it?" He whispered.

"And why did you want to throw me at the wolves?" She whispered angrily.

"I just wanted to confirm. Don't get angry, but it was the old man with half-moon glasses who told me. "

" Dumbledore? "She asked.

"Is there another Transfiguration teacher who has this description?" Alphard was leaning against the table. "The old man asked me to protect you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"You and not Ectur or Bilius?"

"Because I'm in Slytherin," Alphard explained. "If others know your blood status, they will want to kill you."

"And what do you gain by helping me?"

"I am a mistake that the Hat refuses to admit. It was for me to be in Gryffindor, but for fear of my parents, I asked him to stay in the Slytherin House. "Alphard shrugged.

"Insightful, but not very reliable," she murmured.

"It's understandable, after last night. But remember, I play on your side only with different colors." He winked at her. "Shh .. your secret is with me."

He stood up and left.

At night, Hermione was in the Astronomy Tower, which was empty this time. She was reading Secrets of the Darkest Art, but when she started yawning more than three times, she knew she had to go to sleep.

She hugged the book against her chest and went down the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower, when she turned her back, she heard the voice.

"Miss Granger, will you please give me the pleasure of a conversation?"

Tom stood there in his Slytherin robe, his hands behind him, holding his wand. He had a raised eyebrow and green eyes, a wicked grin on his face.

* * *

 **-Naja Oxiana is the most poisonous naja species of the naja type. Naja is the sixth most poisonous snake in the world**


	7. Chapter 6 Daboia

**-I would like to thank Infernalbooks ,Guest, Guest, Reader4581, Guest, rossiex for the comments and the affection.**

 **-I would also like to thank everyone who is reading the story and gave it a chance, just as I would like to thank everyone who gave Kudos.**

 **-Remembering that English is not my native language, then forgive me if there is any mistake in the text. Let me know if there are any errors or if the text needs to be modified.**  
 **I love you guys!**

* * *

 _Chapter 6. Daboia_ \- _Priori Incantatem_

Hermione fortifies the grip on the book against her chest. She swallows hard by noticing the kind of look that Tom has on his really tried to avoid him, tried to be the neutral girl, but he developed a kind of obsession and distrust.

 _It's like he's got a strange kind of sixth sense_.

Fearful, Hermione took a few steps back.

"What do you want?" She asked. Hermione's expression changed from surprise to a expression of ferocity. She knew better than to believe that Tom wanted to just talk with her.

"I think we have an unfinished conversation, Miss Granger." Tom walked with a side smile on his face, playing with his wand with his fingers. "But I don't believe that here, in a corridor, is the best place to talk. Then I ask you to accompany me." He blinked a few times. "But of course, you'll come wanting it or not." He threatened.

Before she could take her wand out of the holster and cast a spell, Tom made a silencing gesture, much like the working of a zipper. Hermione's mouth went silent and she was unable to say a single word, she turned and tried to run, but was quickly stopped by Tom, who took her arm, causing her to drop the book she held.

She stared at him, her eyes already filled with tears. She actually tried to stay out of reach Tom Riddle, but all the events seemed to serve as a kind of catalyst to make Tom get even more interested in her.

 _I tried, Harry._

Tom glanced at the book she dropped, he was surprised and angry to realize what book it was. He tightened the grip on her arm.

"Where did you get this book?" He demanded, shaking her. It was impossible for this book to be with her because this book was currently with him. Inside his trunk, along with his belongings and more dark magic books. _How did she get it?_ "It doesn't matter, you're going to tell me everything when we get to a special place. "

 _The Chamber? The Basilisk?_ Hermione didn't have much time to think, the darkness took over her and she fainted. Tom had manipulated her consciousness.

When she opened her eyes, a little groggy, Hermione looked at the ceiling of the Room of Requirement. She tried to stand up, raising only the torso, her heart beat faster when she saw that she was surrounded with the future Death Eaters, watching with pleasurable attention. Tom himself was in the center, looking at her in a very confident and petulantly way. He felt superior to her.

She glanced at Alphard, who pressed his lips together and locked his jaw in disgust at the situation that Hermione was in.

"Well, Miss Granger, I believe our conversation can already happen, don't you think?" Tom smiled at her.

She crawled, making noises very similar to the noises that a mute person makes, while tears ran down her face.

"Oh, of course. You can't talk. Let me help you." Tom snapped his fingers.

"You monster!" Hermione screamed at him.

"Oh, Miss. Granger, I think this is a terrible way to start a conversation." He frowned. "Allow me," Continued. " Crucio. "

Hermione was struck by the torturing spell, her body writhed and her screams echoed in the Room of Requirement. It was only seconds, but it seemed like hours.

"Tell me, Miss. Granger, what do you know? Who are you? Why do you have this book?" He demanded. Tom's tone changed.

At first, Hermione thought she would go crazy. Bellatrix Lestrange was certainly fit to practice the Cruciatus curse, but Tom ... Tom was different, was special. It was a thousand times worse than the Bellatrix Cruciatus. The pain was so intense, that it gradually became like something deep in her mind. She no longer felt the pain as at first and did not know if she was screaming or not.

Every time she denied the answer to his questions, remaining silent, Tom increased the power of the Cruciatus. He realizes that she is much tougher than many of his Knights, Dolohov or Mulciber would already be begging and crying, curling up in ball form, begging for mercy for him.

In that last Cruciatus, he increased the potency of the spell as he gritted his teeth, the Knights were frightened, and Hermione's scream was deafening, but she didn't break.

Tom paused, breathing quickly. His anger rising.

He laughed.

"I must say, Miss. Granger, that I'm impressed. I confess that each of these boys presents here, would have peed in their pants if they were in the Cruciatus curse as you are." He approaches her.

Hermione opened her eyes, a little numb, but still with a fierce look on her face. Her throat is dry and irritated from screaming, so she's hoarse. Tom gritted his teeth as he realized that she still had that fierce look on his face. He sat on her, with one leg on either side of Hermione's body, she is still looking at him with determination.

"You're going to tell me what I want to know, Granger?" He asked, pointing the wand at Hermione's neck. "Or I'm going to have to tear it from you, hm?" Tom raised one eyebrow. "Don't doubt me, Granger. I have very effective methods." He put his forefinger and thumb to lift Hermione's chin.

Tom touched her hair, a thoughtful act of his curiosity to know what the texture of her hair was, and he was a little surprised to find her hair soft and silky to the touch.

"Don't touch me!" She ordered, fighting against his weight on her.

Tom tried to control her movements, but Hermione, for all her boldness and courage, grabbed Tom's raven hair, messing up the perfect hairstyle out of his hair, yanking a few strands of his hair and spitting on Tom's face, apparently shocked, was Hermione's chance of being able to push him. She gets up quickly and calls her wand from Mulciber's hand.

The Knights are shocked and Dolohov is the first to take a step towards Hermione, Alphard is the first to draw his wand - because he knows that from now on, things will get worse. The others pull out their wands, ready to curse Hermione.

Tom rose slowly, wiping Hermione's spit with the sleeve of his shirt in the process, he laughed softly, but when he looked at her, his eyes were glowing red.

"The next one who takes a step will join her," Tom threatened.

The Knights, very fearful of Tom's anger, step back, out of sight of Riddle. Nobody wants to be the lost target.

"I must admit that Gryffindor fits you well. Bold, fearless, foolish. With an undeniable desire for death." His grip on the wand increases. "You, Miss Granger, knew how to irritate me. I know this is going to give me more trouble, you know? But I'm sure I can manage everything in the end. However, you gave me so much anger, that I'm in the mood to kill you. What do you think of that? "

"It will not be today, Riddle. Do you want to know everything I know? Well, I see you, Riddle. I know your tricks and the masks you put on for everyone else. The perfect boy?" Hermione snorted. "No one is more _pathetic_ here than you."

Hermione convinced herself that she really had a wish of death. Still, she couldn't stop talking. _Who did Tom Riddle think he was to think he could threaten her?_ She would probably die someday, but it wouldn't be today.

Riddle was so angry that he began to breathe faster, his magic came to life and he let the wand be the conductor of his fierce magic.

" Avada Kedavra! "

He shouted, pointing his wand at Hermione. The Knights' eyes widened savagely as they saw the green light emanating from the tip of Riddle's wand, they tried to hide, even if they weren't the target of that curse. And Hermione...Hermione was there, but she was ready. She saw in his red eyes the intention of using that Unforgivable Curse and she was prepared for it. Harry had often spoken of how he managed to get out of his various clashes with Voldemort. She concentrates because she knows what will happen and holds Harry's wand - which is hers for now. - with both hands. It is when the magical shock occurs, the spells - both conjured at the same time - met and clashed against each other. Both the magic of Tom and of Hermione are felt by the other occupants of the Room of Requirement. It's the Priori Incantatem. Their wands remained connected, a thousand rays rising above Hermione and Tom, crisscrossing around them until they were enclosed in a golden dome- shaped web, a cage of light, protecting the two. There was no "echo" because neither of the two wands managed to defeat the other, it was a tie.

Tom is brilliant, from a very young age, he is a great duelist, even without having real battles. It's his magic, he's too strong, he has magic to spare, but finding an equal is something new to him. Try to enchant her didn't work, try to break her didn't work and now he is tied with her in a duel. His wand is attached to her wand, his anger is diminishing as he can't break the bond between the two wands. He doesn't understand what's going on.

Tom again underestimated Hermione. He thought she didn't know what the Room of Requirement was, that she did not know how the Come and Go Room worked, but Hermione knew this Room very well and knew that this Room would become whatever the occupant wanted most. Hermione took advantage of the fact that the desire of Tom Riddle and the others in the Room was weak and strongly desired that the Room is transformed into a labyrinth, capable of separating each occupant from that room and showing her the exit.

The Room attended Hermione's request and thick concrete walls were erected between Tom and Hermione, between Hermione and all the other Knights. The interference and Hermione broke the Priori Incantatem. Hermione turned her back and the Room was already with the doors open for Hermione and she ran with all her efforts out of the Come and Go Room.

Before Tom could force his magic over hers, a concrete wall began to come between him and Granger, she managed to undo the bond between the two wands, the Room had become a labyrinth, and he knew there was something to do with Granger. He undoes Hermione's desire, asking the Room to become as was before, giving him time to see Hermione running away.

 _She slipped through my fingers_ , Tom thought.

The Knights look frightened at Tom, who has an icy look on his face. He growls and cast some curses in random directions, almost hitting Lestrange and Malfoy.

Tom has more questions than answers, however, he didn't come out empty-handed. He has the book, that Granger supposedly stole from him.

Her muscles were sore from Tom's torturing spell, her throat also didn't escape this description, due to the screams she gave inside the Room of Requirement, and despite her body requesting immediate rest, she found the strength to run back to the Gryffindor Tower, where she thought she would be safe.

 _Tell Dumbledore everything, don't be stupid Hermione_! She thought. _Show him the images about Tom and end it all at once._ A part of her mind spoke. _Yeah, do it and break the whole timeline. You will probably hurt your existence and the existence of your friends if you do._ The other part of her mind spoke.

In the end, Hermione only breathed more relieved by being in a place away from Tom Riddle, putting a hand to her chest - trying to soothe the muscles in her chest and lungs. Hermione threw herself on one of the sofas in the Common Room and squeezed the wand in her hand.

 _I lost the book._ She thought angrily. _The only chance of trying to find an answer and I let Riddle take the book_. Hermione gritted her teeth. _I have to find a way to get the book back._

Grunting in pain, she drags her feet to the female dormitory. Hermione's roommates are already asleep and Hermione doesn't have to make much effort to fall asleep either.

When Hermione woke in the morning, her body felt even sorer than before, she took one of the muscle pain potions she had in the medical kit in her bag. Relieved, but not improved so much. What gave her strength to face that day was the anger she was feeling about Tom Riddle. She was like a ferocious lioness, people who cross her path today had to be careful.

She already has an idea of how to retrieve the book, but for this, she needs Tom Riddle to be a little far away. Far enough for her to be able to transform into him with the last Polyjuice potion she has in her bag. It's the worst idea she could have, but it's the only one that gets her into the Slytherin Common Room, where the book probably is. She needs hair from Tom Riddle and if Alphard is really reliable, she'll test him now.

At breakfast, Bilius and Algie are trying to talk to her, but Hermione is serious and quiet, her eyes glaring at the Slytherin table and the members. She sees the looks that Tom's gang gives her and it annoys her so much that she gets up from the table, abandoning breakfast. Ectur follows her, worried about her state of mind.

He touches her arm and she grunts through aching muscles, Ectur frowned.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ectur." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry."

Ectur did not seem very convinced by her words and paid close attention to her walk and behavior. The first lesson she has is Herbology, being a Gryffindor / Ravenclaw class. Hermione can't say that she was really focused on the lesson, humbly saying, she's already been through the fifth year, but that's not the reason why she is so deconcentrated, it's anger. A kind of anger bubbling inside her, giving her a feeling of discomfort, snorting every five minutes.

Her facial expression is clear - today she is for few friends - low brows, lips like a thin line, tight jaw, a bright, fierce look and uncontrollable, loose hair. That's how Tom Riddle and his gang met her when they passed her in the hall. Rosier and Mulciber do not know how to react to her presence, they were unsure of what to do, but in general, everyone maintains a stoic expression. Hermione can see the glow of anger in Tom's gaze, few would notice, especially because he opens a smile. Imitating a 'welcome' expression.

Hermione's bubbling rage threatens to burst, but she is adamant about her role here. She controls herself.

"Miss Granger, you're-" Tom has his sentence cut off as Hermione walks past them straight, she doesn't even look at any of them, mostly ignoring him.

He wanted to play with her psychologist, torture her in public, manipulate her and know how much she told of their meeting last night, but he wasn't prepared for it. Tom blinks, his facial expression falls a little, especially his smile. She passes between him and Abraxas, her movement makes him smell the perfume of red fruits that are in her hair. No, he wasn't prepared for this kind of behavior. He expected the fear in her eyes, tears, an old attempt to run or bargain with him, even if she later begged him for mercy, but he didn't expect to be ignored.

Tom breathed more quickly, his temper changing. Oh, she can actually activate conflicting feelings in him and that's not welcome.

He turned, casting a look at Granger's back.

"Miss Granger." It is Abraxas, who speaks, demanding that she turn. She simply ignores it.

"Miss Granger, why are you doing this? Did I somehow hurt you for you to ignored me? If I did, I ask your pardon, it was certainly an unnoticed mistake on my part. "

Tom says, his voice with false concern. Oh, Tom plays with her, _two can play this game and win who is the best_. They have audience, students who lick the floor wherever he goes - no matter the House.

Even with his theater, she ignores it.

"Granger." It's Dolohov who chases her, taking her arm. Dolohov has a short temperament, his patience is very limited and now, Hermione is his target. She added Dolohov's rancor list the night in the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione is prepared and with a simple movement, she turned and pointed the wand at Dolohov.

"Don't touch me," She commands.

They have audience, but she doesn't care about it, even though all the students are looking with interest at what is happening.

Tom breathed in. _Oh, the magic._ Tom is an admirer of magic because magic was the only thing that has never failed with him, he feels the magic like no one else will ever feel and he believes that magic is the only thing that matters. Then, feeling the strong magic of Hermione, the wand waiting to be a conductor of such magic is amazing and manages to catch his attention. He sees the magic differently and can see her magic, acting around her, intensifying the environment and it's like ... like him. It somehow equals him and he doesn't know how to handle it.

He really doesn't know how to deal with her. Last night was a fucking disaster, a catastrophe and he didn't control his impulses, she saw something she shouldn't and she's alive and he doesn't know how to handle it. She prevented a Death Curse - no one can stop a Death Curse, no one could ever stop any curse that he really wanted to do, but here she is. She stopped it. - She fought against his Cruciatus, she did not break and acted against him and he lost.

 _No, he really didn't_. Tom tries to calm his wounded ego. _It was a tie._ A fucking tie and it never happened to him. He just doesn't know how to handle it.

Tom is divided between the interest of who she is or the threat she represents. If he can't break her and undo that kind of attitude she has, then he'll be leaving loose ends, someone who doubts him. Of course, he has a thousand people in favor of him against one, but this 'one' has an ally that is the stone in his shoe. Granger is in the Gryffindor House, right under Dumbledore's nose, she has free access to the Deputy Headmaster's office and shit, Dumbledore protects her. She's a loose end, who saw him casting a Death Curse. She's a loose end.

However, there is something wrong. He feels, he sees. He doesn't know where Granger's interest and loyalty are. _With Dumbledore?_ He was beginning to doubt it. _If she is Dumbledore's new favorite student, then she is a failed student. Her attitudes don't match with Dumbledore's idealism._ You see, he's not really complaining, _but the girl who is Dumbledore's new pupil tries to hang Dolohov_? _Or can you feel the Dark Magic? And read the darkest magic book?_ Her actions put him in check. _Who is she? What does she really want? Is she like him? Is she manipulating Dumbledore?_ Oh, he likes that last version. _If so, then she is more precious and poisonous than I thought._ Being able to wrap the old half-moon glasses on her little pinkie.

 _And the book ... She didn't steal it._ His book was still with him, in his place, with his belongings. Tom stayed a long time in the night, looking at the two books alike. _What would a Gryffindor girl be doing with such a book? Having her own added to her personal collection?_ So he had asked the question for himself for the tenth time: _Is she like me? The answers are there, magic, the duel, the tie, the academic interests._ He doesn't know what to do with it.

"Miss Granger, why are you doing this?" Tom asked, trying to get closer to her.

She still has her wand up, this time pointing at him. She snorted at Tom's question and then smirked, before turning and walking away. He looks at Granger moving away from him. Bold, but foolish, she has supposedly offended the Hogwarts golden boy in some way, if depends of the other girls and even the other boys, Granger is a dead person. So, it's delicious to play with people's psychological in public.

Hermione feels like a mess. She's starting to understand better the kind of pressure Harry was having with Voldemort always there, waiting for the slaughter. She is currently in the office of the Deputy Headmaster, stroking Fawkes - which is the only thing that calms her recently and Fawkes seems to notice and let her gladly touch his feathers.

"Alphard spoke to me." She tells Dumbledore, who is writing on the parchment, not taking her eyes off Fawkes. "He told me that you asked him to help me. Why him? "

"Mr. Black is an interesting young man, I must say, I was surprised that he had entered the Slytherin House. He seems to have distinct ways of thinking different from his Housemates." Dumbledore is still writing on the parchment. "I dare say, Miss Granger, as I believe you know, that the recent ideological positions in the wizarding world are influenced by pureblood families. Many of the members of these families reside in the Slytherin House and your blood status may not please everyone." He looks up from the parchment to her.

"Why Alphard? Why tell him?" She asked.

"Mr. Black seems to have a tolerance for the status of your birth, something unusual in the Black family. He seemed like the right person who can work on Slytherin House to mitigate any facts that might occur against you."

"How much does he really know? He knows that I came from the future?"

" Mr. Black is only aware of your blood status. I suppose our idea is to keep your identity hidden."

" Good," Hermione murmured, turning back to Fawkes.

It's a few minutes past, before ...

" Granger." Hermione hears Dumbledore's voice behind her, she turns and Dumbledore is looking directly into the eyes. _Legilimency_. He looks at her and nothing happens, but Hermione can feel that light creep of Dumbledore trying to enter subtly through her Occlumency shields. "Good, very good, Miss. Granger." Dumbledore walks away from her. "I must say you are a quick and formidable apprentice."

"Thank you." Hermione sighed. "Professor Dumbledore, what happened in Hogsmeade? Were those people really allies of Grindelwald? "

"I'm afraid your fear is real, Miss Granger. Those men were from Grindelwald and I believe he knows about your arrival. He, like everyone else, felt it when you arrived. "

" But how did he know I was in the Hog's Head Inn? "Hermione asked.

"I believe, Miss Granger, that the Time-Turner trapped in your neck is to blame. There is strong and unique magic in him, but that is still discreet as if he did not want to attract attention. Few would be able to notice such magic. "

" So he's tracking me down because of the Time-Turner magic? "

" That would be a way of saying it. Grindelwald is Grindelwald, a powerful wizard, that's why he has a notion of Time-Turner. But I believe magical barriers can hide the presence. "

"Like Hogwarts." She finished and Dumbledore nodded. "How is Aberforth? When we left the Hog's Head Inn, he was fighting some of the pursuers. "

"My brother is certainly hard to beat. He's fine. "

"That's very good. I'm so happy he's okay. What about France?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Was there really an attack?"

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "The British Ministry of Magic with the French Ministry of Magic are deciding what to do."

"They're going to unite the countries to try to end Grindelwald," Hermione realized.

"But it's relative," Dumbledore said. "Many people in power are in favor of Grindelwald's cause, even if they don't publicly assume."

"Yes, I know." Hermione lowered her eyes. "However, it is dangerous. If Grindelwald knows the location of this meeting - which may or may not occur - then he will kill all the representatives. Or he can leave alive those who join him," she said. "He's already taking over Magical Europe, isn't? That's why it's so hard to catch him. "

Dumbledore let out a sorry sight. "Yes"

But Hermione knows more, even though it's terrible to see Grindelwald's invasion and dominion with her own eyes, she knows that in the end, he will fail. At this very moment, she was looking at the only one capable to stop Grindelwald. Dumbledore. He wants to avoid dueling against Grindelwald, but he will not escape it and soon he will be victorious.

With compassion, Hermione touches Dumbledore's shoulder.

"Everything's going to be okay, professor. I truly believe in that."

 **o0o**

Hermione is getting more and more annoyed, if she has to divert any more silly spells, the next person casting some spell toward her will be hit by a Bombarda.

It's really weird how Riddle and his gang have a kind of fan club or whatever that was. ' The crazy fanatical girls' as Alphard had said. Hermione is no stranger to this kind of behavior, she saw it with Krum, with Malfoy, with Diggory, with Harry and his fame of 'The Chosen One' and even with Ron in the sixth year, but to this day she couldn't understand how some people can be stalkers. She just rolls her eyes at this kind of behavior and gets even angrier at Riddle for putting his fan club to look like a shadow chasing after her.

She waits for everyone to enter Duel Club class, it's the last class before the OWL's, waiting for Alphard. Incredibly, he's always late for class.

"Hermione?" It's Alphard's voice. Hermione pulled him into a corner.

"I need your help," she says flatly. Alphard frowned.

"What?" He asked.

"I need your help," she repeats.

"Are you okay?" He's worried. "I mean, after yesterday, you know what happened." No one talks about what Riddle does in the Room of Requirement. "You were tortured in _that curse_ and escaped of _that other curse_ ," he whispered.

"I-I'm fine," she responds.

"No one escapes of that curse, Hermione. Nobody escapes from Riddle. And you did it. He wants your head now. "

" You think I don't know?" She replied, letting her anger leave with her words. "Why are you walking with them, Alphard? You're not like any of them. "

Alphard looked surprised, but recovered his facial expression quickly.

"I saw what Riddle does to those he considers an enemy, I don't want to stand in the direction of the tip of his wand."

"Is that it? Because of fear? "

" Oh, please, Hermione, I'm a survivor. The Hat didn't accept my request to stay at the Slytherin by chance. Inside the Slytherin House, things are different. You don't know anything. "

Hermione hesitated.

"All right," she says more composedly. "I still want your help. You promised that you would be by my side, just in different colors. Prove. "

" What do you want? "

"I want you to get Riddle away from Slytherin's dormitory. I want you to tell me where his dorm is and the access password to get in."

" Do you want to invade the Slytherin House? Are you crazy? "

" Riddle stole something from me and I want it back. "

" Even if I do all this, the other students will recognize you."

" Luckily, I know how to take care of myself. Help me, Alphard. "

" You know, if Riddle finds out, you're going to die, don't you? "

" He already tried to kill me, remember? "

Alphard seemed uncertain about accepting to help Hermione, it was too risky. If Riddle found out that he had betrayed him, he and Hermione would have targets in the back. Riddle would never let this go unpunished.

"Please, Alphard." Hermione intensifies the request.

Shit, he doesn't know why he's going to help her.

"All right." He accepted after a while. "We have to set a day for that to happen. I'll tell you the password and his dormitory, but do nothing but take what's yours. If Riddle finds out, you will also be putting me in the line of fire. "

" I would never say about you. "

" After OWL's, it's better. On the last day of class. I'll tell you all the information and it will give me time to think of a pretext for Riddle. "

" Thank you." She smiled at him gently.

"Whatever."

The two of them enter the Dueling Club room together. Their sudden entry is noted by Professor Galatea and some students. Galatea always implied Black's delays and today is no different.

"Mr. Black, Miss. Granger would be kind enough to set an example for the other students and take part in a duel. "

Hermione grunted internally, Alphard froze as he felt the eyes of Riddle and his companions.

"Come on, Alphard. Finish with her." Mulciber whispered Alphard gulped.

"Huh ... Professor Merrythought, I'm not feeling very well. I think I'd better not duel." Alphard said. He is not crazy enough to step on the duel area with Granger on one side and Tom sleeping in the same dorm as he.

"Mr. Black - " Galatea begins, but is interrupted by Tom.

" Please, professor, allow me to duel with Miss. Granger. She was brilliant in the last class. "

Rosier and Avery exchange glances at Tom's request. Professor Galatea cannot refuse a request from the golden boy, Alphard has gotten rid of it, but who is actually hanged in the act is Hermione. She almost says she's not feeling well either.

"All right." Professor Galatea agrees.

Tom is waiting for all that behavior Hermione does while dueling, but she doesn't give him this pleasure. She didn't take off the Gryffindor robe, didn't wrap the sleeves of her shirt, and he interpreted it as if she thought he was unworthy of her.

She is on the other side of the duel area, looking at him fiercely determined. He wants a rematch, he doesn't accept what happened in the Room of Requirement, but he cannot begin the duel with fire.

He waits, but she casts no spell in his direction, forcing him to move first. Tom casts some simple spells, but she diverted them all. She makes no move, she's defensive. He begins casting more spells, spells that are more powerful and specific to battles, but she deflected and lifted a shield.

Tom's anger shines in his eyes.

 _He's going to try to kill me._ That's all Hermione thinks.

"Expelliarmus!" The two scream simultaneously, the 'sisters' wands connect again, the Priori Incantatem occurs. The strength of the spell is so great that both are thrown to the extreme sides of the room. The noise of their bodies hitting the floor is loud, but the two rise. Tom has an angry and surprised look, looking directly at Hermione. She has a more fearful look, but not less angry.

She was preventing this from happening. Tom noticed. Whatever the connection between the two wands, she didn't want it to happen.

"Great Merlin! Are you okay? You must go to Hospital Wing now." Galatea orders.

"I'm fine, Professor Merrythought," Tom reassures her.

Hermione can't say the same. Her body still has the effects of Tom's Cruciatus curse and now, being thrown across the room, it just made her limp more.

"Miss Granger, you must go to the Hospital Wing. Mr. Riddle, accompany her. "

"No need, Professor Merrythought, I can go to the Wing by myself," Hermione said. Not even in dreams, she'll be alone with Riddle after the duel.

"I insist, Ms. Granger. I was the one who asked for the duel, I'm responsible for your state of health now. "

Hermione thought of screaming for help.

"Let me take her, Professor." Ectur appeared as the knight in Hermione's shining armor. Hermione smiled at him and looked at the teacher, but Tom intervened.

" , let me take her. I am responsible for the accident, you must attend the class and also, it is my duty as a prefect. "

There is no way to argue with the golden boy and responsible prefect. Soon Hermione finds herself walking on Riddle's side in empty corridors, heading toward the Wing, after a duel. It's a nightmare. Hermione tries to walk faster, but her leg won't let her, she wants to get away from him as fast as she can.

Riddle walked beside her in silence, without making any menacing movements. She's surprised, but Hermione knows best, _it's a trap. It's a trap._

And she's not wrong, as soon as they're away from the classrooms and in an empty hallway near the Wing door, Riddle's peaceful expression changed, he turned and cornered her against the wall, wand pointing at her temple. But Hermione is also prepared and pointed the wand on Tom's neck, right under his mouth. He smiled at that.

This is Hermione's golden chance.

"Get away from me," she ordered.

"No, no, no, Miss Granger. I'm the one making rules here. "

"I want you to get away from me." Hermione grabbed Tom's hair by pulling a few strands and shoved him.

"Who do you think you are?" His eyes glow red, he grabbed Hermione's hair as well and placed her against the wall again. "Who are you, hm? Loyal to Dumbledore? I think not. What are you doing with that book? ? "

" It's none of your business! "She pushed him again, this time slapping Tom's face.

It's a 'slap!' very loud in the ears. Tom turned his face, his pale cheek soon turning a reddish color. Tom's raven hairs are falling against his face. His face slowly returns to the ideal position, there is no red glow in his eyes, but his eyes are the purest green color she has ever seen. He looks at her amazed. The big, bright green eyes. Slowly he touches his red cheek and then looks at his hand as if his hand were a Boogeyman. His hands shake.

"You ... You hit me," He says softly as if he didn't believe what he was saying. He looked at her.

His eyes are green in a second, in the other, they're red, in a blink of an eye. He raises his wand and points it at her head. That's when Hermione knows, she's gone too far.

The door to the Wing opens, and they both glance in that direction.

The matron opens the door, finding Riddle and Granger. He's got one hand on her shoulder, in a weird grip, but she doesn't notice it. All she sees is his smile.

"Mrs. Derwent, we came to the Wing because Miss Granger was injured during the duel in the Dueling Club. "Riddle said.

"Oh, come here young lady."

Mrs. Derwent points to one of the beds, Riddle is reluctant to let Hermione go, but the matron doesn't notice. All She realized is how messy his hair is and how his cheek is red and how Miss Granger also has messy hair and a frightened and limping look.

Riddle leaves Hermione in the Hospital Wing, leaving, not before giving her a look. When he returns from the patrol at night, his followers are gathered in the Common Room as usual.

"What happened to your face?" Abraxas is the first to notice.

"That looks like a slap mark," Mulciber commented. "What is it? Have you been rejected by a girl?" He laughed lightly, but he swallowed his words like acid, by the mortal look Tom gives him.

But Alphard knows who possibly gave that mark on Riddle's cheek.

Tom goes straight to his dorm. Already lying on his bed and with the curtains around the bed, he touched the cheek that she hit. Of course, he could have healed himself, but for some reason, he didn't. His cheek is usually pale, now is red and hot. _Fierce, aggressive, strong, uncontrollable, that's what she is_ and he doesn't know how to deal with her, but he's having a dizzying feeling.

 **o0o**

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Alphard asked for the thousandth time.

"I have to." Hermione is determined. "You already know you have to keep him away for at least an hour."

"Good luck." He wished to Hermione. "You'll really need it."

The OWL's finished and she's not worried about it. She waited all these days for this moment. After what happened in the Wing, Riddle ignored her. What Hermione didn't know if made her calmer or more worried. She so diverted from the spells of his fan club that it became a routine.

People were a little flustered with the end of OWL's and for tomorrow to be the last day before the Hogwarts Express for the start of the summer vacation. She combined everything with Alphard for today, he would remove Riddle from the Slytherin dorm by at least an hour, would have to be long enough for her to find the book.

"Thank you, Alphard," she murmured to him again.

He, very disconcerted, confirmed. Alphard still didn't understand why he was helping Granger, of course, he made a promise to Dumbledore to help her, but it was being too risky. What he was doing was going against Riddle, which is practically going against the whole Slytherin House. He understood that what Riddle was doing was 'wrong' on some level, but shit, joining Riddle's personal circle was a free pass for less trouble-or so he thought.

He glanced at Hermione again, before turning away. Merlin would help this girl, Alphard wanted less information as possible about what was happening, but he would do what he promised her.

Hermione watched Alphard leave, the count on the clock started from now. She removes two small jars from her school bag, one containing Riddle's hair that she took off in the incident outside the Wing door, the other was the last jar of the Polyjuice potion she had.

She took the strand of Tom's hair very carefully, bringing the hair up to her eye level before adding the hair to the potion. Before drinking, she transfigured her clothes into the masculine version of the Slytherin uniform. The Polyjuice potion became dark, a black color with some green reflections, when she drank, the taste of the potion was the taste of Death - if she could describe it that way. It was like swallowing ice cubes that cooled her throat and burned at the same time. It was slimy and for a moment she thought she was tasting the taste of a snake's skin - even though she had never tasted such a taste. - but only at the end, in the last sip, the potion became sweet, but it wasn't enough for her to remember the taste or to take the other experiences.

When she finished, Hermione looked at the mirror in the ladies' bathroom, the famous Moaning Myrtle bathroom. It was certainly ironic the place she chose to become Riddle, but this is one of the only places that students don't dare to enter. The moment she entered the bathroom, she wondered where Myrtle was, Hermione called for her a few times, but Myrtle didn't show up.

As she was still staring at the mirror, her stomach turned and she felt a little sick, her skin began to bubble like hot wax as it slowly turned to Riddle's pale skin.

 _This was literally the worst idea that I could have_ , she thought.

In the end, Hermione looked in the mirror, watching as her face became the perfect face of Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. She took a deep breath, staring at her reflection-now Tom's appearance-and took a deep breath, looking into her eyes - now green. She took a few breaths, taking courage to leave the bathroom. She swallowed and settled, ten minutes had passed, time was running. She left the bathroom.

With quick steps, she headed toward the dungeons, everyone looked at her, seeing Tom. The girls smiled like fools to her, the boys made room for her, all because they thought she was Tom Riddle. Hermione now understood the kind of popularity Tom looked at her with expressions of confusion, but let it pass.

In the dungeons, the Slytherins looked respectfully at her, and very eagerly she murmured the password to enter the Slytherin Common Room. They found Riddle's behavior strange, it was unusual for him to demonstrate his expressions, but of course no one commented.

When she entered the Slytherin Common Room, she sucked her breath. Divided between something classic and somber, the Common Room was up to its upper-class members, but what surprised her most was the silence that formed with the few people there. They all looked at Hermione - Tom - with some respect and admiration, hoping to hear what she - he- would have to say. But Hermione - Tom - very clumsily went upstairs to the men's dormitory. Troubled and anxious, it wasn't something common in Tom Riddle.

 _Dormitory, dormitory_. It was all Hermione thought. _Last bed, the bed farthest in the room, near the window._ She was passing on the information Alphard gave in her mind. _Last closet, last trunk._

She rushed into the closet, feeling the magical protections. She supposed that the magical protections for Tom's housemates or for other people were complicated protections, but not for her. She was Hermione Granger, the girl who was part of the Golden Trio.

She searched in the closet, the dresser by the bed, that now she was looking. Hermione was surprised to find the few things, very well organized. She was so focused that when she came across the diary, she froze. Her hand began to tremble, with the slight inclination of the diary to be so close. The Horcrux. But she felt the magical protection in him more powerful than all the others, it was too dark. Dark Magic. And was whispering to her.

She ran, abandoning her search. Feeling dizzy, nauseous, strange. Tom's dark magic was infiltrating her, whispering things, crawling, licking her skin. She just had to run away, running away from that thing. Desperate, she ran away like a five-year-old girl. Running, she passed by Abraxas, who looked for her in a very suspicious way.

She needed to get back to a safe place.

Upon arriving at Myrtle's bathroom, Hermione ran to one of the sinks and poured water on her face a few times, trying to feel firmer and less dizzy. In the mirror, the reflection of Tom Riddle stared at her. Not even the frightened look on her face had undone perfection on Tom's face.

What aroused Hermione from her dizziness was a few clapping. She looked toward the entrance, the real Tom was there, with Alphard on his diagonal.

"You're so interesting, Miss Granger." Tom smiled in his last words. She looked at Alphard accusingly and he tilted his head to the side. "You know, Miss Granger, being friends with some ghosts or having people loyal to you, has its advantages." Tom wasn't looking to her, he was contemplating, philosophizing.

Alphard approached her, circling, looking closely.

"And didn't she really become you?" He arched one eyebrow, talking to Tom.

Tom looked at Granger, seeing her transformed into him. He looked up and down.

"Leave us," Tom commanded.

Alphard glanced over his shoulder at Hermione and glanced at Tom's back and then left. Tom stood there, hands behind his back, waiting silently for Alphard to leave.

Hermione, transformed into Tom and Tom Riddle himself, were alone in that bathroom that was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

Tom approached with calm steps, deliberately slow, looking at her from top to bottom, a strange gleam in his eyes. Hermione didn't understand what that look meant, what was going on in his mind, it is likely that no one would ever decipher. He was releasing magic into the air, it was in his aura. Powerful, domineering, this was his magic.

He circled her, watching intently, his hand sometimes touching the Slytherin robe she wore. In one of his moments, his hand moved up her arm to her shoulder. He circled once more, stopping right in front of her. Now that she was transformed into him, they were in the same height. Tom Riddle looked at her, looking deep into her eyes, meeting his own green eyes, but they conveyed emotions that Tom Riddle himself could never convey.

She didn't look away, they were a few inches away, his gaze had a strange glow and she noticed a kind of smile before she felt his lips against hers.

Tom was kissing her. Crushing his lips against hers, surprised, she tried to pull away, but he pressed her against him. His tongue invaded her mouth, savoring her taste. He pushed her against the bathroom sink, she was between his body and the sink, being kissed. In a quick move, Tom turned her to face the mirror, he kissed her neck a few times before placing her head over her shoulder and with one hand, he held her jaw, making her to look at the reflection in the mirror.

His eyes flashed in a gray-green, a smile on his face.

"Don't you think you're perfect like that, Miss Granger?"

He asked, looking at the reflection just as she was looking. In the mirror, the image of two Tom Riddle was reflected. One domineering and another submissive and kissed. The real Tom Riddle was holding Hermione Granger tightly in his arms.

* * *

 **-Daboia Russelii, also known as Russell's Viper, the sixth most poisonous snake in the world.**


	8. Chapter 7 Acanthophis

**-I would like to thank everyone who is following the story, for the 8,8841 views, 160 followers, 71 favorites and 51 reviews. Thank you guys, for giving to me and the story a chance.**

 **-And my most sincere thanks to la canelle ,Cassie-011 Guest, Anon,ALIASTESIN ,Infernalbooks, rossiex, VSATGPFAN88 , narutobelieveit , Dom1sek , Guest, Guest , AlexisDumbee , Liam1094** **for their affection and for commenting.**

* * *

 _Chapter 7. Acanthophis \- The Mortal Kiss._

Moving away from her, Tom tightened his grip on her jaw, forcing Hermione to look at him. The Polyjuice potion was losing the effect and Hermione's features began to appear. The hair that was once dark returned the brown tones that belonged to Hermione and began to grow again and rebel, the green of the eyes turned to be light brown, the face became feminine again and she was back to her normal height.

Tom watched her from above, watching with interest the effect of the potion ending.

The kiss didn't mean anything. Nothing but the urge to tease her, to play with her psychologist, to torture. If there was any interest, it would be nothing more than the love that Tom Riddle had of his own image. After all, he considered himself perfect and unfortunately, he wasn't wrong. Regarding his appearance, Tom had no flaws.

Not taking eyes from Tom's furious expression, Hermione felt his fingers sink into her cheeks, while he forced her to look at him. A rebellious tear ran down her face.

"Don't tell me you're afraid, Miss Granger?" He murmured close to her, making her feel the warm breath of mint on her skin.

Hermione didn't dare to reply, she didn't think she would be able to control the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling, she would probably scream and cry and yet, Hermione did not stop staring at him.

He looked at her, his eyes taking longer than necessary, recording her expression in his mind. Tom swallowed, still feeling her taste on his tongue.

"Let's make things clear, Miss Granger." A soft threat was present in Tom's voice. There was a slight tilt to the upper corner that indicated the shadow of a smile, a sneer. Feeling the hand that was holding her by the cheek, fading into the tangle of her hair, Hermione found herself being forced to tilt her head back, Tom Riddle's pale, long fingers pulling a few strands of her curly hair. His wand pointed at the small space between her eyes.

"You're not going to do things like that anymore," he ordered. "You will respect, you will obey me. The book, Dumbledore and all the other things I want to know, you're going to tell me." With a muffled laugh, Tom continued. "Otherwise, I'll make sure to make your life a hell." He threatened, very serious this time.

"So, I suggest," Tom's voice suddenly softened, a sudden and almost unbelievable change. "to you cooperate with me, because all I have done for you is not a third of what I am capable of."

He looked around the ladies' room, his gaze discerning as a Machiavellian smile took over his face.

"You know, I hear you're a good friend of Bilius Weasley and Ectur Prewett, even Longbottom and Lupin. You wouldn't want to see your friends harmed, would you? No, I don't think so. I thought for a while..." Tom released her, one of his hands holding his wand and the other hand, with his index finger tapping his chin in a thoughtful gesture."Which one of them would you care more about. Which one of them would you cry and beg for me to stop? Of course, we can make theory a practice, after all, they are all available. What do you think, Granger? "

He turned to her.

"I'm giving you options, consider yourself fortunate. It's so much more than I give most people. You can go the easy way or the hard way. It's your choice, Granger. I'm very willing to do any of the options, believe me." Appearing pleased with himself, Tom took a deep breath. "Take the vacation time to think about which of the options you will choose. I must also remember to be careful about what you're going to say. You've seen things you shouldn't, so... to make sure you don't spread certain comments around... There's a curse on your tongue."

" You're lying," Hermione accused, her breath racing as she considered the possibility.

" I'm?" Tom raised one eyebrow. "I would not test it if I were you." A victorious, prepotent grin appeared on Tom's face. "Oh, don't cry, Granger. I liked you better when you were ferocious, but sometimes, all we need is the right person to show us where we belong. " Tom patted Hermione on the head as if she was some kind of dog. "Thank me later, Granger. For showing you, what's your place. "

Proud of himself, Tom left the bathroom, leaving Hermione alone in the ladies' room.

Hermione was shaking, a few tears falling down her face as she stared at the door of the ladies' room, where Riddle had just left. Her tremors were more by imminent rage than by fear, though deep down there was a trail of fear that Tom Riddle could do with her.

 _Like a fool_ , that's how she behaved. She is without the book, she is with Riddle's threats and a curse on her tongue given by a deadly kiss. But the worst part is related to Alphard Black. She fell for his charms and his friendly flirtation, which looked so much like Sirius Black, and especially, for his tolerance of her blood status - _and that shouldn't even be considered a quality, because everyone here is a wizard_. But everything was a lie.

Still staring at the door, Hermione cried. She finally let the emotions flow, such emotions that were trapped, contained like a dam. Tears came to the hills and she began to sob. Hermione was desperate.

As if by suggestion, Alphard entered the ladies' room. He had a startled look, but what surprised him most was to find Hermione in Slytherin's men's clothes, her hair bristling and rebellious, while she was weeping and shaking.

"Hermione!" He ran to her, holding her by the shoulders, trying to calm her down. "Are you okay?"

Angrily, Hermione moved away from his touch. Alphard tried to hold her one more time, but she did not allow it and when she looked up at him, Alphard moved away as he noticed the anger she had in her gaze. Hermione pushed him, trying to hurt him physically, obviously, the use of the wand was more practical, but Hermione was not a torturer. She hadn't reached that level yet.

"Idiot! Traitor! How dare you touch me after what you did !?" She shoved him. "Attracting Riddle here, denouncing me to him!"

"Did he do something?" Alphard asks, and Hermione shuddered with suggestion behind Alphard's choice of words.

No, he didn't do that and Hermione thinks it's impossible for Tom to have some sort of obscure sexual desire, but perhaps it wasn't so strange to think he was capable of such a repulsive act. After all, it would be one more thing to add to Tom Riddle's list of cruelty. However, she doubts that part, Riddle considers himself as refined and elegant. He rarely gets his hands dirty and seems to have an extremely dubious moral compass.

Hermione shook her head. He did many things, he tortured her, cursed her and threatened, but she will not accuse him of this kind of crime. It's the Gryffindor side of her talking louder, asking her to be fair.

"But what's the point?" Hermione asked accusingly. "Isn't that what you wanted? You didn't want him to discover the truth? That he would torture me? Isn't that why you brought him here? "

Listening to the accusations, Alphard replied sharply.

"I saved your life," he said and Hermione snorted at that comment. "You can say what you want, but nothing will change the fact that I saved you. You're smart, but you don't seem to understand how things work. "

At this comment, Hermione looked at him, the tears still trickling down her face.

"Riddle needs to think he's always in control, that he knows everything. If he later discovered what you did, I'm afraid of what he would do to you. And to make matters worse, Moaning Myrtle found it and told about you," Alphard explained. "Riddle cannot be deceived and if he is, for a mere second, his vengeance will be worse."

They stared at each other for a second, before Hermione turned around and with a defeated sigh said,

"Just leave me alone." Her voice sounded defeated and weak. She went to a corner of the bathroom, sat on the floor and hugged her legs, hiding her face.

Alphard observed her for a few seconds and sighed, he walked and sat down next to her. One thing Alphard hated was seeing a girl crying. It could be his flirtatious nature or perhaps it was the education that he received to how act with the ladies, but the truth is that _a crying girl always has her reasons_. However, he seems to be more inclined to Hermione. She grew up inside him very quickly, that doesn't mean he'll be having afternoon tea with her - both have a divergence of opinions - however, he cares for her. There is a fire in her that he has never seen in another girl. The boldness, courage, and ferocity that charmed him. He even envied her on a certain level.

With a wave of his wand, Alphard transfigured Hermione's clothes into Gryffindor's women's clothing.

"Don't cry," he mumbled beside her, taking a few strands of her rebellious hair.

She looked up at him and he could see the suffering expression on her face.

"What went wrong, Alphard? What did I do to arouse Tom's interest? "

"You turned out to be an opponent." Alphard answered simply. It made sense or at least was more logical, but no one could say with a hundred percent certainty what was going on in Riddle's mind. No one ever did.

Hermione snorted and rested her head on Alphard's shoulder, stretching her legs and weeping and Alphard allowed himself to be her friend's shoulder. He let her cry and cry, not questioning her motives and the reason she seemed so desperate.

 _It's a fact, girls don't always make sense._

At some point, Hermione fell asleep and Alphard very slowly lifted her into his arms. He had to take her to the Gryffindor Tower to deliver her to Enid.

When he was leaving the ladies' room, he was startled to find Pearl Lovegood in the hallway. Dressed in the colors of the Ravenclaw, the girl turned her face at him, her straight blond hair so pale it almost looked platinum, contrasting with the blue hair tie that was large enough to look like mouse ears. _The girl was crazy._

Some said she was part Veela, because despite being crazy, the girl was very beautiful.

"Alphard," she greeted him.

"Pearl," he replied.

Pearl looked with interest at Hermione with her clear blue eyes.

"Is she okay?"

"Sleeping."

"Mhm... She doesn't look very well. "

" She was crying." Alphard suddenly felt himself at a trial.

"People can die from crying," Pearl said suddenly and almost insensibly.

"Can?" He frowned, Alphard didn't know if what she was saying was literal or figurative.

"The Broken Heart." She said as if that explained everything and that's why Alphard was sure he would never get into the Ravenclaw. In the ranking of the best students, Tom was in the first place and Pearl was second.

"Do you want to accompany me?" Alphard asked, and Pearl nodded. Maybe it was better that Pearl accompanies him to Gryffindor Tower, it would be very strange if he took Hermione all the way in his arms alone, as if they were a couple.

 **o0o**

 _Hungry ... Hungry ... Master ... Hungry ... Alone_ \- The Basilisk was whispering in the Hogwarts pipes, chasing rats. The Queen of the Snakes - yes, queen, because the basilisk was female - was talking with Tom, following through the piping network of Hogwarts, complaining that she was hungry and that she felt alone. Obviously, the monster felt alone, it had been dormant for a long time until Tom's arrival. Tom knew he had to go into the Chamber of Secrets one more time before the summer vacation to put the Basilisk to sleep again, however, today he ignored the complaints of his monster.

Arriving at the Slytherin Common Room, he was greeted by Malfoy and Lestrange.

"My lord." Malfoy greeted him, as did Lestrange. "Do you find yourself well?" Abraxas dared to ask, probably noticing Tom's sudden change of behavior this morning. He confused Tom with Granger and now, Tom knows that little witch could play a dangerous game.

Tom did not deign to respond, going up the stairs to the side of the male dormitory. Abraxas may belong to the Malfoy family, which is one of the most important families of the wizarding world, but he knows his place. So stingy and prepotent, the Malfoy Family has more dirt on their hands than Tom's shoe sole, claiming to be one of the purest wizard blood that has ever existed - _what a lie_. Everyone knows and comments on how the Malfoy Family has licked the floor that the Muggle aristocracy stepped on, excluding squibs and denying involvements with muggles. So, Abraxas shouldn't even think about questioning Tom.

 _That's how it has to be_ , Tom thought, already lying in his bed after doing his nightly routine. _I need to keep control of my Knights_. Tom cannot afford to vacillate his control over the Knights, otherwise, they would turn against him and Granger threatened all this control with her behavior, confronting him in front of the Knights, resisting the Cruciatus, challenging his magic.

Tom knew that the Knights whispered and if they began to doubt his power, then they would rebel and this is something he cannot accept, so ... punishing Granger was necessary, not only for himself but to reaffirm control that he has over the whole Slytherin House.

Well, he can't be fooled, which brings him to Alphard Black. It didn't go unnoticed by Tom, Alphard's behavior towards Granger or how he seemed frightened when Moaning Myrtle told him that there was a strange girl in the ladies' room. ' _That's what I came to say, my lord,_ ' Alphard said. Curiously, he found Granger transformed into him, scared and nauseated. I can still taste it on my tongue, Tom thought.

Honestly, it wasn't Tom's first kiss. He doesn't see much logic in sharing saliva with people who don't matter to him, which reduces the number of people to zero. However, Tom has used his masculine beauty and flirtation to achieve the goals with other girls, other times it was out of curiosity. You see, groups of young boys with hormones at their peak, constantly talk about their experiences and desires - some desires are so dumb that they make Tom roll his eyes - but Tom is happy that much of the time he can suppress such primitive impulses and that make him so human.

It's dawn and Tom has not been able to close his eyes and sleep, his mind is very alert, the Basilisk is whispering, he's thinking about Granger and Tom's dorm roommates are already asleep. He is tired of lying down and with an impulse, he gets up from the bed.

 _Anyway, I have to put the Basilisk to sleep_ , he thought with a shrug.

Picking up his wand, Tom also picks up the Diary. Wearing his robe, he left the men's dormitory and the Slytherin Common Room, in the dungeons the Bloody Baron is making noise with the chains. All Hogwarts is asleep and he walks peacefully to the ladies room of Moaning Myrtle, Tom knows this castle like the palm of his hand and knows how to walk unnoticed. In the bathroom, he looks around before entering.

"Tom?" Moaning Myrtle says, she is levitating near the window.

"Hello, Myrtle." He says her name like a caress. He knows she doesn't like to be called 'The Moaning Myrtle'. If ghosts could blush, Myrtle would look like the color of a tomato. "Thank you for today, Myrtle. What would I be without you?" Tom flirts with her, knowing the one-sided, platonic, pathetic love Myrtle feels for him. While alive, Myrtle couldn't even see him without blushing and running to hide. The Muggle-born girl was extremely passionate about the image of the perfect boy Tom created.

Myrtle gets so excited that the edges of her ghostly image undulate. Tom makes the sign of silence and Myrtle confirms repeatedly, before she cannot stand in Tom's presence and fly to one of the toilets to hide. Tom stood, watching the scene, before shrugging and turning to the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets. He looked at the tap with the figure of a snake.

 _Open it_. He commanded in the tongue of the snakes, in that strange whistle.

At the same time, the tap shone with white light and began to turn, then the sink began to move. In fact, the sink was out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe big enough for a person to slip inside. Tom slipped into the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets. He didn't quite understand why Salazar Slytherin had chosen the main entrance of the Chamber of Secrets to be a slide, but he supposed Salazar didn't have many options to hide the Chamber.

When he had finished slipping, Tom stood up and took some of the dust off his shoulders. The hall of the Chamber lit up with the dark green color of the torches connected to the wall and as he walked, a pair of torches lit to illuminate his path. Tom stopped in front of the solid wall with the image of intertwined snakes.

 _Open it_. He ordered again in parseltongue.

The snakes' gaze seemed to light up as if they were alive, and the solid wall retracted, opening Tom's path to the true Chamber of Secrets, which lit up in the presence of the Slytherin Heir.

Tom stood in the center of the Chamber, looking at the statue of Salazar Slytherin with his mouth open, which meant that the Basilisk was free, hunting to feed. But Tom knows the monster will not be long in coming back since she probably felt the presence of his master. Tom's gaze flickered to the corner of the Chamber, he walked over and looked at the gray brick wall, groping until he found a more dislocated brick and pressed in. The bricks trembled and another passage opened for him.

He entered the room, looking around. Here was the 'lair' of Salazar Slytherin. There was a bookshelf never known by other wizards, books of various potions, spells, and magic were there. Some books were so obscure that black magic sang at the touch of some wizard. A fireplace that heated the room, a large bed in the colors of Slytherin and a good place to practice the alchemy of potions and spells. Obviously, Salazar Slytherin spent some of his precious time here, studying and perfecting his magic.

Tom sat on the bed and took a deep breath, opening the Diary, after getting a quill to write.

 _ **Hello**_. Tom wrote.

 _ **Hello, Tom. How are we doing?**_ The Diary replied.

 _ **We're fine. No one found out about the Chamber of Secrets and Hogwarts won't be closed.**_

 _ **What's bothering you?**_ The Diary asked.

Tom mused, should he tell about Granger? Yes, he should. The Diary is made to protect him, the Diary must know about everything.

 _ **There's a girl.**_

 _ **A girl?**_ Tom could almost hear his own voice of disbelief.

 _ **Yes, a girl. Granger. Hermione Granger**_.

He waited for the answer, even the Diary itself seemed to think. It was unusual for Tom to worry about anything and anyone, especially if it was a girl.

 _ **What is wrong?**_ The Diary replied.

 _ **I'd better show.**_

 _ **Add the memory**_ . The Diary ordered.

This version of the Diary, was the old version, without the knowledge of Granger's arrival and what happened afterward. This is why The Diary must be fed with new memories, such memories that contain Tom's emotions, thus allowing the Diary to be equal to Tom himself.

Tom took the wand and took a deep breath before pointing the wand at his temple. A bright white line came out of Tom's head and he directed the memories into The Diary and with a gross gesture, he cut off the memory link with his wand. The Diary brightened as he received Tom's memories and emotions about recent events. Tom waited until the Daily absorbed everything.

 _ **So...?**_ Tom asked, asking for the Diary's opinion.

 _ **She's different**_ . The Diary didn't know how to describe her better. _**S**_ _ **he resisted our magic, she faced us. Keep an eye on her.**_

Tom smiled at the conclusion of the Diary itself. Not unlike what he himself had concluded.

 _ **See you.**_

 _ **See you later, Tom**_ _ **.**_ The Diary said good-bye and then it closed.

Tom sighed and put the Diary in the office near the bed, sealing with a protective magic. Here, The Diary would be safe. Under the protections of Hogwarts, beneath the castle, protected by his own magic, hidden inside the Chamber of Secrets, protected by the Basilisk, in a place that only him -Tom Riddle-could open. The Horcrux was safe.

 _Master ... Master ..._ The Basilisk was whistling outside the room.

Tom left, watching the Basilisk, that great snake, standing in front of the statue of Salazar Slytherin, swallowing a rat that had just been hunted. The wall of the hiding place inside the Chamber closed behind Tom.

He went toward the snake, which slid into her scales, whistling - growling if that were possible - surrounding Tom with her large body. She looked directly at Tom, those hypnotizing, murderous yellow eyes, but Tom wasn't shaken by those eyes and simply tilted his head to the side. The Basilisk was, somehow, in need.

She opened her mouth, showing those big, grotesque, poisonous teeth, the drool dripping.

The Basilisk lowered her head and Tom put his hand on the scales and hard skin of the snake, and he felt the snake's breaths. She was sniffing at him, recognizing Tom. He stroked the snake a few times.

 _It's time to sleep_. He whistled in parseltongue for the snake. The snake retracted, showing her row of teeth, her yellow eyes shining, the snake's tail sliding from side to side. She was against the idea of sleeping again.

Tom smiled. The Basilisk was a very simple animal, very clean and not very demanding. She'd just been a little excited to finally use her skills after a long time of sleep.

 _Go to sleep._ He ordered. The snake slithered to the statue of Salazar Slytherin, entering the statue's mouth, heading for her hiding place. The statue of Salazar Slytherin closed his mouth and it was as if the giant snake had never been there.

Tom took a deep breath, lifting his chin as he stared at the statue of his ancestor. Proud of himself.

In the morning, before lunch, that's when he saw her. All the way to the Deputy Headmaster's office, Tom was cursing Dumbledore mentally. That stupid old man. It was as if Tom was walking to death because he knew he would have to hand his wand to Dumbledore and that to him, it meant death.

He knocked on the door a few times, taking a deep breath and doing his best to keep the expression on his face stoic. The door opened by itself and he came in, surprisingly meeting Hermione there. She was sitting in an armchair near the perch, drinking tea and reading a book. She took her eyes off the book momentarily, narrowing her eyes in anger when she saw him, and then she turned her attention back to the book she held. Tom tried to read the name of the book, but her hand prevented him from seeing.

"Where is Professor Dumbledore?" He demanded.

She ignored him and he gritted his teeth at her behavior. It hadn't been a day since their meeting in the Moaning Myrtle bathroom and she ignored it as if none of that had ever happened. That's it, he definitely hates being ignored. Whether or not moves with his supposed feelings for being an orphan or something about abandonment, Tom doesn't give a shit. However, the truth is that she knows how to trigger conflicting feelings in him.

"I asked you a question," Tom says.

"If you didn't notice, it's just me who's here," she answers, not taking her eyes off the book.

"You shouldn't be here. What is your relationship with Dumbledore? Don't tell me you ... "

He can't finish because Hermione interrupts him.

"Be careful what you suggest, Riddle. I will not allow you to put my integrity and the integrity of Professor Dumbledore in check," she responds angrily.

Tom swallows his words.

"Answering your first question: Professor Dumbledore left. He used Floo's network." Hermione pointed to the fireplace, still keeping her eyes on the book. "He said it wouldn't take long."

Hermione would never tell Riddle that Dumbledore was going to help her go to St. Mungo's to see Harry. She would never tell him about Harry Potter.

It's an embarrassing silence that sets in, and when Hermione notices that he made no move to leave the room, she finally stares at him.

"Well, what do you want?" She asks, very serious.

"You didn't forget our conversation, did you?" Tom tilts his head a little, at the mention of what happened, his eyes seemed to glow in a vivid green, the shadow of a smile appearing on his face.

Hermione touch her jaw, her lips turning into a thin line.

"It's a little hard to forget, isn't it?" She replied.

Before the conversation could continue, the crimson bird, The Phoenix, flew out the window, taking a few turns before settling on the perch near Hermione. Both Tom and Hermione swallowed the offense to see that they were being watched by Fawkes.

It didn't go unnoticed by Tom, that Hermione also restricted her comments in the presence of the Phoenix, but anyway, he was the only one who seemed to be at a disadvantage in this room. Since the Phoenix seemed to choose Hermione's side.

Dumbledore had the bird to protect her.

"Until lunch, Ms. Granger. Thanks for the information," Tom said softly, a smile on his face. It was such an abrupt change that Hermione had to blink a few times to understand what had happened and before she could respond, Tom was already gone.

At dinner, Tom saw Dumbledore. The reality was that Dumbledore had arrived some time before, but Tom didn't bother to look for him in vain. Sitting at the Slytherin table, Tom watched Hermione at the far end of the Hall, she was there, sitting equally as a beautiful challenge, and when she looked at Dumbledore expectantly, Dumbledore nodded and her smile appeared.

He didn't know what kind of relationship she had with Dumbledore, but Tom was sure they both had secrets.

Headmaster Dippet gestured the students to calm down and pay attention to what he was going to say. Dippet was making the year-end speech, something that Tom has already memorized in his mind - if he wants, he may even repeat. _This is another year gone and blah, blah, blah, blah_... - now, Dippet was talking about the incidents that happened and about the death of the muggle-born Myrtle Warren, which was a difficult year for all but mostly for the Ravenclaw. Tom bit his lower lip to hide a giggle. Dipper would deliver the Hogwarts Cup.

"Fourth place, it's Gryffindor with three hundred and twenty points, third place Hufflepuff with three hundred and fifty-two points, second place it's Ravenclaw with four hundred and sixty-three points. Five hundred points, Slytherin. So, gentlemen, the Cup will go to the Slytherin House. "

Clapping, the Main Hall was decorated with the colors of the Slytherin House. The students clapped in celebration, especially the Slytherins.

"Go ahead, Tom. Go get the Cup." Otis Parkinson spoke and the whole Slytherin table agreed.

Tom got up from the table and headed for Dippet, who held the Cup in his hands, very happy to deliver the Cup to his favorite was radiant because the Slytherin house had won. Tom felt the Cup in his hands, being the center of attention, listening to the claps of the other students and the teachers. He looked around, feeling euphoric, drunk with emotion, the taste of power in his tongue.

He looked at Winky Crockett, the Slytherin House Headboy, who nodded. Tom didn't need anyone's approval to do what he wanted or that he thought would benefit him. Although Winky was the prefect, Tom was in charge of the Slytherin House.

"Headmaster Dippet," Tom said. With Tom's voice, they all stopped the celebration, silently watching closely what was happening. Tom did his best to look happy, innocent and worried, even a bit hesitant. His facial expressions, more convincing than any actor in a drama play.

"Tom?" Dippet asked.

"We, from Slytherin House, are very happy to receive the Cup. My housemates and I worked hard to get the points. But we agreed that if we won the House Cup, we would deliver the Cup to the Ravenclaw House. It was very horrible what happened this year." Tom looked down, still feeling the weight of the Cup in his hands, imitating an expression of regret. "Especially with Miss Warren. So... " He offered the Cup to Dippet again.

Tom looked at the rest of the Great Hall and gave a weak, hesitant smile. The girls from all the Houses were blowing up with hormones, wishing they had Tom Riddle. Tom looked at Slughorn and lowered his eyes, pretending to be embarrassed.

"Well..." Dippet took the cup. "Look, students, this is an extremely honorable act of Slytherin House, who thought in their classmates instead of gratification. Miss. Dorothy Greengrass, come and get the Cup. "

Dorothy Greengrass, in her uniform perfectly neat and her hair black with no hair out of place, up to the stair to Dippet. In front of Tom, she reached out for a greeting and for a moment Tom saw that familiar glow as she looked up at him. Lust and libido. She smiled with those red lipstick lips and turned to Dippet, picking up the House Cup.

"Thank you very much, Headmaster. Thank you very much, Mr. Riddle and thank you to every one of the Slytherin House. Your act will not be forgotten by the Ravenclaw House. "

The girl could have gotten very well into the Slytherin House.

The Great Hall burst into applause again. When Tom sat down again, Greengrass was still staring at him at the Ravenclaw table. Her gaze told him a lot as she bit her bottom lip. Rosier and Avery noticed the look Greengrass was giving to Tom and they looked at each other as they laughed.

"Looks like someone wants to have her skirt lifted today" Lestrange muttered and Mulciber and Nott laughed.

Tom snorted and lifted an eyebrow, propping his elbow on the table, while his hand was supporting the head. Behind the figure of Miss Greengrass, Tom noted the 'beautiful challenge' at the opposite end of the Hall, Granger. Hermione Granger. She looked at him too, her lips in a thin, serious. And Tom knew, _she knows._

She knows it was a theater.

In the Common Room of Slytherin, Dolohov complained.

"I can't believe we won in Quidditch and had to hand over the Cup to the Ravenclaw."

"Whatever." Alphard shrugged, sitting on one of the sofas as he watched a girl.

"Anyway, we'll get the Cup next year," Rosier concluded.

"Don't be stingy," Lestrange said and everyone looked at him in disbelief that he was the person who were saying that.

"No, Lestrange is right," Tom murmured, sitting in his favorite armchair. His comment caught the eyes of everyone. "Give alms to the poor. It's the moral code, isn't it?" He chuckled, making others laugh.

Tom watched silently and attentively all the others, paying special attention to Alphard, who was leaning slightly over Madame Blentchley, leaning one hand above Madame's head, smiling at her and biting his lower lip. She, in turn, was blushing.

Tom got up and left the Common Room, heading toward the Deputy Headmaster's office. He didn't even have to knock on the door because the door had already opened for him and in the center of the office was Dumbledore. Granger was out of sight.

"Come closer, Tom." Dumbledore said.

Tom's jaw clenched with a bouncing nerve. He took deliberately slow steps, holding the wand with an iron grip.

"Professor," Tom greeted. He looked at the Phoenix, who stared at him with the same intensity in his gaze, resting on the perch.

"Lemon drops?" Dumbledore offered, and Tom denied it. "Well, ." Dumbledore raised his hand, leaving the palm of his hand sample, asking.

Tom squeezed his wand a little more, refusing to give his wand to Dumbledore, his interior was corroding with the idea of giving up his wand for another year.

"Professor, please," he begged, looking at the wand in his hands.

"We've had this conversation, Tom."

"Please, let me stay. I don't want to go back to the orphanage. Let me stay in Hogwarts this summer. I promise I will not cause any trouble ... you will not even feel my presence here. I do anything! I even help the elves!" Tom spoke quickly, almost without pause. Offering himself to do any job, because all he wanted was to stay in Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry, Tom. But you must go back to the orphanage," Dumbledore said. He felt that Tom had grasped magic and power very quickly, Tom needed to have contact with Muggles and the outside world to alleviate that ambition that Dumbledore so much saw in him.

"Please, Professor! I do anything! I helped find the monster that was hurting the students! I don't deserve this reward? I return the medal! "

Dumbledore looked at Tom's despair for a moment, recognizing the genuine emotion that these green eyes conveyed. However, when Tom quoted the supposed 'monster' of Hogwarts, Aragog, Dumbledore's suspicion returned.

"I'm sorry, my young man," Dumbledore denied with regret in his voice.

Tom lowered his gaze again at Dumbledore's refusal, the grip he held on his wand was so much that it was possible to hear the sound of his hand clutching the wand's wood. Tom took a deep breath, regrouping, and raised his face to face Dumbledore, his chin slightly pointed up, wanting to indicate superiority. Dumbledore has no idea how difficult it was for him to have to beg to stay in Hogwarts. He hates to beg, gives him the same feeling that someone is tearing his skin off. His pride makes him angry.

"Here." He held his wand in Dumbledore's hand. Refusing to face Dumbledore for another moment, Tom turned and walked toward the door.

"Good vacation, Tom." He heard Dumbledore say, before closing the door.

 _Someday I'm going to drown this old man in his own blood and with my own hands. Or who knows, I can throw him out of the Astronomy Tower._

Tom came back cursing Dumbledore more than when he went to the office. In a corner of the hall, Tom stopped, hiding behind a pillar. He looked more forward to see Granger and the two Prewett brothers. They were talking to each other, basically Granger and younger brother Prewett were comforting the older Prewett, hugged Ignatius, an act that surprised both brothers, including Tom himself. Her hands went up and down Ignatius's back, as if she were comforting a child. Above Ignatius's shoulder, her face had a strange expression. A mixture of anguish and understanding. When she separated from Ignatius, Ectur put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, as if to say 'thank you.' Ectur waved at her and patted Ignatius on the upper back. The brothers asked Granger about something, bid her farewell, and made their way to Gryffindor Tower. Granger stood still, watching them make their way to Gryffindor's home and then she turned to the image of the night with the new moon shining in the clear sky. A clear summer night. The wind blew her hair lightly, she sighed and made her way toward Tom, not knowing he was hiding.

He leaned against the pillar, folding his arms. The figure of his person mingling with darkness, the only color that stood out was the green of his eyes and the green of the masculine uniform of Slytherin.

When Granger noticed his presence, he noticed her hesitation to continue on the path, but in the end, using the Gryffindor courage, she continued with firm steps. Riddle raised one eyebrow and looked with interest as she passed him. The only movement he did was with his eyes, those green eyes following her movement. He waited and finally gave the 'snake grip' in her, grabbing her arm.

"Making your way to Dumbledore, Granger?" He asked, holding her arm. "Shall I remind you again of the curse?"

Of course he didn't overcame her ignoring him after all that had happened. It's not common for his victims to ignore him.

She snorted.

"Now I'm sure you're bluffing about this curse on my tongue. You wanted me to be scared, to cry and beg for you." She replied, face to face with him, even though she was still under his grip.

A side grin appeared on Tom's face. If he couldn't curse Dumbledore, he would do it on his favorite student.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. Tom leaned down so that his lips were touching against her ear. His breath shivered Hermione. "It would be a shame if the snake image under your tongue would release the curse and infect you. This curse that would rot your tongue and mold your mouth until necrosis and nothing remained. "

Tom returned in the ideal position to look at Granger's face and see the look of horror on her face.

"Of course this will not happen if you don't say anything about that night in that room or in that bathroom. Because, let's face it, Granger, our little secrets shouldn't fall into the wrong ears. "

* * *

 **\- Acanthophis Antarcticus. Also known as Death Adder, the seventh most poisonous snake in the world.**


	9. Chapter 8 Crotalus

**I came back guys!**

 **I would like to thank Lagerta, Guest, DramionetomioneOTP, AvalonTheLadyKiller, VintageAlly, la canelle, ALIASTESIN, for commenting, for their kindness and for their full support in the comments. Thanks! What would I be without your words?**

 **English is not my mother tongue, so I hope you understand if I have any errors in the text. Let me know so I can correct.**

 **Thank you, I love you guys #**

* * *

 _Chapter 8. Crotalus_ \- _Locked with a Lioness._

Hermione took a deep breath and looked at her clothes for the third time, due to the looks she was getting from her clothes. She was not wearing the appropriate women's clothing for the time. People looked at her with pity - _maybe she was eccentric or had permanent brain damage_ , that's what they thought.

For a long time, Hermione thought the Wizard Community was a little more advanced than the Muggle when it came to being less judgmental, but little by little she realized that this wasn't quite an absolute truth.

She sighed, in her thoughts, the clothes were the least of worries.

Realizing her mood, Dumbledore squeezed her shoulder in an affective act of companionship. She smiled weakly at him, very eager to get to St. Mungo's Fourth Floor; the floor for people who are 'severely injured' by jinx, hexes, charms or brain damage. It was on this floor that her friend Harry Potter was. And that scared her.

Many things were scaring her. Riddle scared her. He is strangely compulsive, cold, arrogant, malicious, and perhaps it would be worse to deal with a young Dark Lord than with a snake-faced Dark Lord. While the future Riddle has become a powerful yet impulsive and non-coherent wizard, young Riddle is much more controlled and no less deadly, he is sneaky and intelligent. And that doesn't even make much sense since Hermione doubts how sane he is.

Which leads her to the magic tattoo under her tongue. After that fateful night she spoke with Riddle, she felt the magic in her tongue. In the Gryffindor dormitory ladies' room, Hermione picked up her wand and looked in the mirror, she raised her tongue and used a spell to reveal the curse. In her pink tongue, the black outline of an image of a snake appeared. The snake was curled into itself, resting, which meant it had not activated the curse. If she remembered well, Riddle said the curse would be triggered if she talked about the night in the Come-and-Go Room or the Moaning Myrtle bathroom, which left a huge amount of space of what not to do.

Well, we all agree that she can't talk about these events. But Hermione doesn't know how far this curse goes.

 _Can any word that is connected with these events activate the curse? Can I write about those days? Can I make someone guess about what happened?_ There are many theories, and she selfishly admits that she will not test all theories. She values her life too much for taking such a foolish risk, preferring to spend a few hours studying some way to break the spell.

All her thoughts are cut off when she finally reaches the Fourth Floor. Her heart clenches, her breathing falters and her hands begin to sweat. Hermione walks deliberately slowly, admitting to herself that she is afraid to see what condition Harry is.

To answer her questions, a Healer is waiting for her and Dumbledore. He guides them both to Harry's bed, opening the curtains so she and Dumbledore could see him.

Harry was… fine, or so it seemed. Hermione's breath came in ragged as if her lungs couldn't expand right as she inhaled. She took a few steps toward the bed, her hand lifting to initiate touch on Harry's skin. At first, she saw nothing wrong with him. Harry was without any injuries, however, he was a little pale. His dark hair was a little longer, rebellious and going in any direction, reminding Hermione a lot of his hair at the time of the Yule Ball.

She sat on the edge of the bed and lightly ran her fingers through his hair, brushing the strands of hair from his forehead. With her thumb, she traced an invisible path across his forehead, where the scar that made him recognizable should be. To her astonishment, the scar was no longer there. She looked down at his face, watching his eyes tremble behind his eyelids.

"Harry…?" She tried to wake him.

"It's no use." The Healer said. Hermione finally paid attention to the Healer, still not leaving her position.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"All the injuries that were possible to heal, we healed. But your friend doesn't wake up… There's still brain activity, but it's like he's sleeping. We do not know what this is. We've tested everything, what's left now is waiting. "

Hermione's nose wrinkled in disgust at the Healer's response, she really couldn't blame him, but she expected some good news.

"I want to see the report," Hermione demanded. Dumbledore was surprised by the tone of voice Hermione took.

"Child, I believe a young lady like you would not understand." The Healer said.

"That, who will judge, is me." Hermione held out her hand, waiting for the report.

The Healer looked at Dumbledore for approval and Dumbledore nodded for him to do as she asked.

 _No jinx._

 _No hex._

 _No charms._

 _No torturing spells._

 _No injuries._

 _Patient Status: Unconscious - Deep Sleep._

Hermione's hands began to shake as she finished reading. She wiped the cold sweat off her forehead and ran a hand through her hair in a pacifying gesture of her growing anxiety.

 _This is bad,_ she thought. _This is very bad._

If the 's Healers have already done their best to wake Harry through potions and spells, and yet he hasn't woken up, then this is very bad.

Hermione put both hands on her head, trying to think, trying to find a safe way for her and Harry, but nothing came to her mind. She felt her eyes sting as she fought back the tears that threatened to fall.

She looked at Harry, realizing that his eyes were still moving fiercely behind his eyelids.

"Harry…?" She tried again, taking his hand with hers. "It's me, Hermione."

Harry's grip tightened as she mentioned her name. Her brows drew together as a strange expression of sadness and happiness took over her face. The tears she tried to hold now were streaming down her face.

Somehow Harry recognized her voice.

"I'll be with Harry," she said suddenly.

"Miss, I believe—" The Healer was interrupted by Hermione.

"I'll stay with Harry," she said. Her tone showed that it was non-negotiable.

She couldn't leave Harry. They were best friends. They were like brothers. Harry would die for her and she would die for him. It was the meaning of loyalty. Not even when Ron left the tent did she leave Harry, even though the sadness in her heart grew bigger. All three were at the height of their stress, and the Salazar Slytherin locket did nothing but intensify their fears and stressful situation. However, neither was it able to drive her from what was right or make her forget about Harry's friendship.

She didn't even realize that the Healer had left, her energy focused completely on Harry Potter. Hermione felt as Dumbledore sat in an armchair near the bed while she was still holding Harry's hand.

"Your loyalty is remarkable," Dumbledore muttered. "I'm impressed."

"Harry is my best friend," Hermione replied, not taking her eyes off him. "I always thought there was a difference between the friendship that Harry and I have for his friendship with Rony. Don't get it wrong, the three of us are friends, but I'm not a boy - obviously. "

"However, when Harry and I enter the wizarding world, we understand each other," she continued. " We both knew nothing about the wizarding world, we were innocent and ignorant in certain matters, even though Harry was a half-blood wizard. Then he knew how I felt; he always knew. "A tear fell down her cheek. "I always say that Harry is my best friend, but the truth is that he's like a brother. A brother I never had. And Rony… Oh, Rony. He must be going crazy with worry. "

She looked down to observe the union of her hand and Harry's.

"Rony…" Hermione smiled as she quoted him. "Rony brought joy to us. Admittedly, some of his comments were very acidic, but he's… Rony. He complained too much, was too scared, but never turned his back when we needed him and always defended us. To this day I remember when he tried to defend me from Draco when he called me a Mudblood. Ron cast the Slug Spell, but his wand was broken and the spell eventually came back to him." She laughed at the memory. "Harry was the first to realize my feelings about Ron, just as I realized the way he looked at Ginny."

Hermione looked at Dumbledore, her lips trembled as she avoided crying like a child.

"I have to stay with him. I have to find a way to help him and find a way back. I have to find a solution… I can always find a solution, but I… I… "

She didn't want to tell Dumbledore that she was really afraid she couldn't find a way out of this whole problem.

"Patience, my child. If we always act in despair, we will miss important moments of our journey. Take time for yourself and calmly think about what has to be done. "

Dumbledore kept her company all afternoon, he was reluctant to leave her there, next to Harry, but she assured that it would be okay, after all, she had her special bag. She sat in the armchair that was recently occupied by Dumbledore. Hermione is aware that she cannot arrest Dumbledore her presence, she knows that he is important during this time and she cannot be a distraction to him when Grindelwald is at the height of power.

She never left Harry's hand, she talked to him and tried to reassure his deep and disturbing sleep. Somehow Harry seemed to be a little aware of the surroundings, even though he was sleeping. That's what she thinks, because all the while Harry's grip never loosened.

Eventually, Hermione fell asleep leaning over Harry's bed, however, constant murmurs aroused her. Sleepily, she opens her eyes, blinking a few times and testing her taste buds. She recoils from the position in which she fell asleep, feeling a slight pain in her back. She looks around, noting the bluish light coming through the windows that indicated it was dawn.

She sighs and looks at Harry, who was still sleeping, when her ears pick up the constant sounds. Hermione gets up slowly, her breathing becoming low and she takes her wand out of her holster. With slow steps she walks toward the sound coming from the corridor, her wand ready for any confrontation.

Hermione was surprised when an elderly man grabbed her by the arms, coming face to face with her. Startled, she does not react, but to stare into the blind, cloudy eyes of the old man with gray and tousled hair and a long beard. He muttered meaningless things, shaking her like a rag doll. Hermione fearfully wanted to let go of the man's grip, but what he said made her stop momentarily.

"I see. I see! " He shouted at her. "This is not your time, but I see!"

"Please, let me go!" She asked. "You're hurting me."

"Mr. Mopsus!" A nurse was running down the hall, accompanied by the male nurses. "Mr. Mopsus, you can't run away like that, running all over the hospital. "

"I saw it! I saw it! " Morphus was being taken back by the two nurses. "I saw the dead lioness with the snake coming out of her mouth! I had a vision!" He shouted as he was taken back.

"Don't be afraid." Hermione was startled when the nurse spoke and touched her shoulder. "He is Chaos Mopsus, of the Mopsus family, descendants of the wizard seer Mopsus. Apparently, clairvoyance is hereditary, or so he thinks. He may not make sense, but he doesn't hurt a fly. However, today he seemed agitated." The smiling nurse said. "By the way, I'm Poppins. How can I help you? "

"I ... I'm with my friend." Hermione said.

"And who would he be?" Poppins asked.

"Harry P-Evans." Hermione almost said Harry Potter.

Poppins seemed to think, that's when she looked the way Hermione seemed to come from.

"Oh, poor thing," Poppins muttered. "Your friend is the sleeping boy. I hope he gets better soon. We're doing our best, but I think it's just a matter of time before he wakes up." Poppins smiled and winked at Hermione before making her way down the hall.

Hermione turned back to Harry and leaned toward him and again traced a path on Harry's forehead where his scar should have been. She made a repetitive movement of back and forth with her thumb as it occurred to her: You-Know-Who.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

She felt anger in her heart, a merciless desire to hurt. She locked her jaw as she tried to reconcile emotions with logic; the logic she almost threw out the window. No one could really blame her for having such impure and angry thoughts, besides the irresistible desire to hurt Tom Riddle. After all, it was all his fault.

Hermione clenched a fist, also closing her eyes, trying to control herself. She sat in the armchair by Harry's bed and crossed her arms, rocking back and forth, looking at him.

There was a strange whispering voice deep in Hermione's mind, asking her to go after Riddle and put an end in this. _Was it possible that Riddle's death would awaken Harry? What would the odds be?_ She wondered. For all she knows, it should be easier to kill the young Dark Lord.

 _He wasn't that powerful yet, was he?_ Maybe she could kill him. _He already has a Horcrux. Well, he only has one Horcrux, sure is easier than the six. But, oh, shit ... It's the diary. It's the fucking diary. Merlin knows where he kept the diary_. Hermione exasperated. No one ever knew where Riddle kept the Diary during the school time. She scratched her head at the obstacles and failures of her plan.

This was part of July for Hermione. She was there, always beside Harry, sitting in that armchair, sometimes praying for some force beyond her comprehension to help them both. Other times she would try some spells to help Harry. She talked to him constantly, even though she never had an audible answer, Harry pressed his hand against hers and she knew that maybe he understood. The armchair next to Harry's bed could already be addressed in the name of Hermione Granger, because she barely left this place. She was very much like a mother there, but no one can judge, because, over the years, Hermione has developed a strange kind of maternal instinct toward Harry and Rony.

She developed a friendship with nurse Poppins. At first, Poppins passed her just to check on Harry's health, the other day, during break time, Poppins was talking to Hermione. Until one day, the two had lunch together. The conversation between them was friendly, but not so deep. Hermione would never open herself and tell her all her story and fears, however, she thought it would be beneficial to have someone who cares and who can tell her all about Harry's conditions when she can't be there.

After that strange night, Hermione slept less and remained as alert as possible. Dumbledore always sent letters, often protected by magic. Of the letters, most of them, Dumbledore gave her advice. Important advice or just updating it, telling about the kind of Ideological War within the Ministry or Grindelwald's advances. It was nothing very specific, he didn't go into details. Until one day a letter protected by spell arrived. A letter with a message she couldn't ignore.

 ** _Hermione,_**

 ** _Dangerous. Move. You are in one place for a long time. It's time to find a new place to be. Your dear friend will be fine. I give my word._**

 ** _Albus Dumbledore._**

It didn't need to be said much, she knew who it was: Grindelwald. That meant that Grindelwald was tracking her, either out of curiosity or self-interest and well, she wasn't in the mood to find out what Grindelwald's motivation was.

Hermione thought it took too long before that happened. However, she also thought that the strong magic barrier that protected 's made Grindelwald's search a bit difficult, and let's face it, nobody attacks a hospital. It's against the rule of war - if really have one - or rather, it's anti-moral.

Hermione looks at Harry once more, pressing his hand against hers and lowering her face until it is level with his ear.

"I have to go for our own safety, but I'll be back, Harry. I'll find a way to get us out of here." She whispered to him and felt his hand squeeze hers. Harry trusted her, he always did.

She bites her lower lip while retracting to the ideal position. She hates what she's doing, she doesn't want to a part with him. Separating makes both weak. Together they are stronger. But it's necessary.

She takes one last look at Harry before turning her back.

 **o0o**

She is walking through the crowd on the north side of Diagon Alley, which never seems to be empty. Hermione already has everything she needs in mind, which is why she goes straight to the Eeylops Owls Emporium. She needs an owl to deliver her letters, an owl who was quick and smart and who was good at camouflaging herself.

As soon as she entered, the bell at the door indicated Hermione's arrival. She looked around curiously, noting some differences in the store. The assistant surprised Hermione when she suddenly appeared in front of her.

"Hello, how can I help you, Miss?" She smiled.

The girl didn't look much older than Hermione, she had light hair in an almost undone bun, with owl feathers in her hair. She had pale, kind green eyes with freckles on her cheeks and the tip of her nose, her lips were thin and her two front teeth were slightly larger than they should be, and they were square. Hermione smiled as she noticed something in common with the girl. She remembered well what her own teeth were like.

"I'm looking for an owl." Hermione replied.

"Oh, feel free to look around the store. The manager is not here, but anything you want, you can call me. My name is Jane." She introduced herself. "Oh, by the way, I believe owls are like wands, you know? They choose their owners as well. Well, at least that's what I think. So be calm and don't be afraid. We don't want an accident like last week," Jane muttered. "An owl's claws can be quite destructive when they want to, but owls, in general, are good. Of course, it's not very advisable for those who are afraid of birds of prey. But, be calm…"

" Thank you, " Hermione said, quickly realizing that if she didn't move away from Jane, the girl would continue to talk endlessly, rambling on her conversation.

Hermione walked further into the store, her boots clattering on the hardwood floor. She looked around at the owls. Every time she tried to get close to an owl that caught her eye, the owl would fly away or simply turn her neck one hundred and eighty degrees so she wouldn't have to look at her.

Owl feathers slowly fell to the floor and Hermione followed her with her gaze as a black feather slowly descended into her open hand. She held the quill and brought it to her eye level, observing the details until in her field of vision she noticed a dark cage in the corner of the store. Curious, she moved closer, squinting to try to understand the image she was seeing.

That was when a pair of ruby-red eyes looked at her when the owl turned the head toward her. Hermione was surprised for a moment, staring at the owl that winked calmly at her. Unlike the other owls, this one didn't seem to want to get away from her and reflected in her ruby eyes the same curiosity that Hermione had.

"Asio Stygius or also known as Devil Owl." Jane's voice made Hermione jump in fright. She put her hand on her chest to calm her heartbeat.

"Come here, my sweetie." Jane opened the cage and with a leather glove, let the owl land on her arm and then she brought the owl into the light so Hermione could see.

At first, Hermione thought that because of the owl's appearance in the darkness, the owl looked like a little demon, with dark feathers and red eyes and two small, horn-like feathers above its head. But as soon as she saw the owl in the light, the initial idea fell apart.

The owl still had black feathers, but in the belly area it had yellowish and white feathers, the feathers above the head were still up, but now it gave the owl a cuter expression. And the eyes lost the ruby shade to be oranges.

It was a large owl with claws curling into Jane's leather glove and as if to show this fact, the owl spread the wings before bringing it against her body.

"This is an owl from South America. The eye tint is typically yellow or orange, but when the light reflects on the owls' eyes when they are in darkness, the eye color turns red. Combined with the color of the feathers, these owls became known as Devil Owls." Jane explained. "But really, they don't hurt anyone, right, my boy?"

Hermione looked at the owl and smiled. The owl was calm and blinked again, looking at her. Hermione put her index finger close to the small feather area near the owl's beak and petted it a few times.

"Looks like this boy here liked you," Jane said.

"I'll take him."

"Great!" Jane smiled. "I will prepare his things. Let's go to the cashier."

Hermione closely followed Jane with her new owl.

While putting the owl in the cage. "Oh, those owls are really nocturnal," Jane said. "So, do you already have a name for him?" She asked.

Hermione looked at the owl, who quickly managed to camouflage himself in the darkness of the cage. It was then that Hermione spoke the first name that came to her when she looked at the owl.

"Nix," she answered.

"Nix?" Jane questioned.

"Yes. Nix This is his name." Hermione concluded. "Despite being a female name, Nix was the deep night goddess and protector of witches and wizards according to Greek mythology. Isn't that a proper name for him? "

"Well, looking in that way. " Jane shrugged, a smile on her face. "Looks like Nix is a good name."

Jane handed Hermione the cage with Nix inside and some snacks for Nix after Hermione paid with galleons.

"Well, it looks like it's you and me." Hermione told Nix, who winked at her again.

Hermione apparated, holding Nix's cage and her small bag. When she reached the destination she desired, she smelled the salt spray and listened to the sea, the boots she wore sank into the sand and the sun shone in that uninhabitable and safe place. She looked back and watched the ocean before starting to walk on the sand to a flatter area.

"Come on, Nix." She murmured to the owl, who was now her constant companion.

Hermione set Nix's cage on the floor and pulled of her holster the wand. Her gaze faltered a little as she focused on the spells. She began to put up the same magical barriers she used at the time she, Harry and Ron hunted the Horcruxes.

"Cave Inimicum," she whispered. "Protect Totalum." She continued. "Salvio Hexia. Repello Muggletum. Muffiliate. Disillusion Charm. "

Hermione used a sequence of protective spells for her and Nix's safety. She was confident of the spells she cast. Following basic reasoning, Voldemort was considered more powerful than Grindelwald, if the Dark Lord couldn't track them while hunting the Horcrux, Grindelwald wouldn't find her either, if she placed the same sequence of protective spells.

She let out a relieved breath. From her small bag, Hermione called the tent with an Accio and began to set up the tent with magic. And there she was, that damn tent that reminded Hermione of the worst moments of her life and yet it was the only place Hermione could call home.

When she had finished setting up the tent and entered, Hermione placed Nix's cage in a corner and conjured a perch for him beside the bed. Then, she opened the cage and let Nix out, which quickly flew and settled on the perch, spreading his wings momentarily. She gave him some snacks, but Hermione would let Nix hunt tonight. It would be good if he developed a bond of trust with her.

Focusing on arranging things allowed Hermione to escape her anxieties and concerns. She spent all afternoon putting everything in place, the books on the shelf, making a place for alchemy and brewing, cleaning and making the environment cozier. In the early evening, after she had finished the magic, Hermione took a hot shower and put on her pajamas and put the kettle on to warm up, so she could make some tea and let Nix out to hunt.

As she sipped her tea, Hermione began to think of the next steps she should take. Here, she would have time to research how to break the curse that was upon her and how to go back to her time. Unconsciously, she picks up the Time-Turner around her neck and looks at the object that caused so much trouble. The emerald sand inside the Time-Turner hourglass seems to glow in the light. She runs her fingers gently over the parseltongue words and feels the magic in the necklace. Hermione raises the Time-Turner to eye level and for a fleeting moment, she thinks she can hear the same murmurs that made her enter the Forbidden Forest. Startled, she lets the Time Turn fall around her neck again.

Even if it was fast, the intensity of her interaction with Time Turner makes her have a headache.

Hermione finished the tea quickly, brushed her teeth and went to bed. Tomorrow she will send a letter to Dumbledore and another to Poppins.

 **Professor Dumbledore,**

 **This is Hermione and this is Nix, don't be alarmed by his appearance. He is a quiet owl, but so far, he's lovely. I followed your advice. I'm in a new place where the sun, the sea, and the sand is constant, it's a familiar place that I can call home. Don't worry about me. Please keep me informed. I hope everything is alright.**

 **Hermione.**

 **Poppins,**

 **It's me, Hermione. I apologize for not saying goodbye to you, I had to go home as soon as possible. I hope everything is fine. I'm worried about Harry. Would it be bothering you to ask you to keep me informed about him? Forgive me for the inconvenience. I wish that one day we could repeat that afternoon. Thanks for everything.**

 **PS: Don't be afraid of the owl.**

 **Hermione.**

That morning, after writing the letters, Hermione handed it to Nix for him to take. She wondered if it was impolite or unkind of her to ask Poppins that favor, but big problems call for desperate measures. She just hoped Poppins's response would be positive.

The month of August was the month Hermione used her vast knowledge about magic. She tested potions, read books, and used spells. One time, as she tried to break the curse on her tongue, it made her tongue heat up as if she'd eaten pounds of pepper. She cried and for a moment she thought her tongue would fall. Another time, she tried to reveal the magic in the Time-Turner, the Time-Turner bounced off the magic and she looked like a poodle when the electricity of the magic hits her hair.

The constant failures were getting the best of Hermione and she was soon becoming more stressed second by the second. And without any company, but Nix, she was feeling a little lonely.

Fortunately, Poppins responded positively to Hermione's letter and she constantly sent letters to her. Dumbledore also, however, explained that he was constantly in the Ministry of Magic - that he was afraid of Grindelwald's influence on Durmstrang.

But it was on the nineteenth of August that she received a letter from Poppins.

 **Hermione,**

 **I'm sorry, your friend not yet awakened ...**

Hermione didn't dare to finish reading the letter because her hands were shaking so hard that she crumpled the letter. Hermione's breath got more panting as drops of tears wet the paper in her hands. That familiar anger began to rise within her. The same anger that Harry described.

 _It's all his fault_ , Hermione thought. _It's all Riddle's fault._

She couldn't control her impulsiveness, a very trait of her personality that was little used, but that made her a member of Gryffindor House. She really couldn't control it. Her emotions spoke louder and then she apparated.

She was in an alley in London, which wasn't quite as she remembered, but she was sure she was in the right place. After all, when she came here, London was different and very updated, but she can't require much. It is in 1943, during the time of World War II.

Hermione walks out of the alley she apparated, waving her wand so that her clothes would change into a woman's clothing of this era because now she would walk among the Muggles.

Her steps were steady, she was determined, emotions bubbled up inside her.

As she neared the place where Tom Riddle was born and raised, her steps slowed. Hermione analyzed the Wool Orphanage carefully, her eyes narrowing. When she stepped into a newspaper, she looks, reading what was written.

 **Churchill, Roosevelt and Mackenzie King meet in Canada.**

 _The First Conference of Quebec,_ Hermione acknowledged in amazement. Her attention was captured when she heard rapid footsteps, someone running toward her. She looked up and saw. Tom Riddle.

He stopped just inches from her, panting from the run, his cheeks red and he is slightly altered. There was an adrenaline smile on his face that faded as he recognized her. His eyes widened, two green orbs that glowed red for a second. He swallowed, then his mouth made an 'O'.

They were both outsides of the gate of the Wool Orphanage.

Hermione looked him from the top to down, and her eyes caught the ring on Riddle's finger. That ring. The second Horcrux.

"Granger…?"

The double entrance door of the Wool Orphanage opened and a man, who limped out on one leg, came out with an angry expression on his face. Both Tom and Hermione turned their faces to see the man approaching.

"Kid, come here!" The man shouted, presumably to Riddle. He opened the entrance gate, his eyes fixed on Riddle until he noticed Hermione. He looked her top to bottom and the voice softened a little. "Forgive me, Miss. I hope he's not bothering you. "

Hermione just shook her head in silence as she watched the man grab Riddle by the back of his neck, tilting Riddle's head and chest down as a form of punishment, and pushing him inside. They entered and Hermione could hear the man grumble and curse. For a moment she saw Riddle's gaze on her. It was a cold look.

 **o0o**

Tom was now locked in the basement of the orphanage, the place of punishment for those who break the rules. He touched the damp, cold gray wall after he took off and threw his jacket on the floor. By reflex, he touched the left corner of his lip, wiping the small trail of blood from the slap he received from Mr. Wool.

None of this would have happened if he had not run into Granger. She distracted him and important minutes were lost. If she hadn't interfered, he would have returned to the orphanage in time, and Mrs. Cole would never miss him and warn Mr. Wool. But no, Granger had to come and see him in that humiliating situation, had to know the conditions he lived when he was out of Hogwarts.

 _Did it have to be her?_ He wondered. _Calm down._ He said to himself. _You still have the power in the situation. You are more powerful._

Yes, he was more powerful. Tom touched the ring on his finger, looking at the dark stone. It was the other Horcrux. His second Horcrux.

 _I did it, I killed them all._

There was no one else that was the blood of his blood. His father, grandparents, were all dead. Everyone died by his hands. By now his uncle must be on his way to Azkaban. Tom raised a hand to the sunlight streaming through the small basement window. His skin paled, the ring stood out in his hand, the dark stone didn't shine. That's when his attention went to his own skin and he watched the sweat droplets.

Now he was realizing that his breathing was heavier and he was starting to feel cold and sweating. He leaned his forehead against the cold wall, trying to appease the warmth that seemed to be in his head, caused by the slight headache. Tom closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath.

The small price to pay to escape death. Before coming the 'immortality' given by creating a Horcrux, comes the fatigue. The body tired and adapting to the lack of a soul piece. And Riddle was feeling it, and it sure was worse than the first time, but that's what made him stronger and more powerful. Or so he thought.

Tom was still leaning his head against the wall when he felt that familiar 'whoosh'. A pressure on gravity that broke the standards of Muggle logic. Magic. He lifted his head a little and slowly looked out of the corner of his eye at his new company. The invader.

She was there, she had conjured an armchair for herself, which she made look like a queen's throne, sitting upright with her arms resting on the armrests and with her legs crossed.

Tom watched her. Her hair was still full, but somehow more controlled, she had put a clip to hold some strands of hair to one side. Granger was dressed in a short-sleeved white ladies' social shirt, the godé skirt marking her slim waist, and the length of it that was just below her knees and dark blue.

He didn't resist, looking too hard at her calves, his gaze rising over her skin until the sight of her legs was hidden by her skirt.

It was then that he looked at her expression. She was passive of emotions, her expression was serene and he felt she was analyzing him. Her cheeks were flushed from the sun, wherever she was on vacation, she was definitely enjoying it. She tilted her head slightly and her left hand moved, drawing Riddle's attention to the wand she held.

 _What was she doing here?_ Tom wondered. _Is Dumbledore involved in this? Does he know what I did and sent his gold student to find out? Because it's too much coincidently that she knows exactly what orphanage I am in._

Riddle contemplated his options, because now she seemed a threat. He could do magic without using his wand, the problem is that the spells he would use wouldn't be considered accidental magic. Obviously, wouldn't be considered accidental magic, him, an exemplary student with formidable magical control. Of course, there could be exceptions, but this would not be one of them.

He could steal her wand, however, wands can be traced. It was with this method that he was able to make his uncle, Morfin Gaunt, guilty of the death of the Riddle family. And if Granger got hurt by a dangerous spell caused by her wand, Dumbledore would probably investigate. That is, he has no way out.

He really has no way out until he knows what Granger wants. Tom now realizes that it is she who is playing the game at that moment. And he notices, she breathes and raises her chin in defiance when she realizes that he understands.

 **He is locked with the lioness.**

* * *

 **Crotalus is a genus of snakes in the Viperidae family. Also known as Rattlesnake. The eighth most poisonous snake in the world.**


	10. Chapter 9 Echis

**I would like to thank ALIASTESIN and Guest, for commenting, for their kindness and for their full support in the comments. Thank you for taking the time to comment. I am extremely grateful.**

 **I would also like to thank the 102 Favorites and 200 Followers. Thank you.**

 **English is not my mother tongue, so I hope you understand if I have any errors in the text. Let me know so I can correct it.**

 **Thank you, I love you guys!**

* * *

 _Chapter 9. Echis_ _-_ _All this and more._

Tom felt as if the surroundings were spinning as he moved to face Hermione. He was feeling weak and tired, but he didn't want to give her the pleasure of seeing the true conditions which he was. So, he did his best to stand, putting his hands in the front pockets of his pants and lifting his chin a little.

"Well, to what do I owe the honor of your presence, Miss Granger?" He asked, a tone of disdain in his voice.

His tone didn't impress Hermione, who was still passive and with an 'air' of superiority. She blinked solemnly.

"What is the counter-spell for the curse you put on me?" She asked.

Tom snorted.

"What makes you think I would tell you?"

"Must be because I'm in advantage here." She replied, unshaken by Tom's words.

"I don't think so." Tom grinned mischievously. "It doesn't look like you have the upper hand since you need to ask me how to break the curse."

It was Hermione's turn to smirk.

"I always try to ask politely first, to have a clear conscience later. The answers I get are not always positive, so I stop and think: Well, no one can judge me, I tried to be kind." She answered thoughtfully. "Which brings me back to you. So, yes, I'm in advantage here."

"What makes you think that?" Tom raised an eyebrow. He knows he has to manipulate her.

"You have no wand." She answered quickly.

"Why do you suppose that?" Tom's nostrils flared as his face changed to something dark, the veins showing in his jaw.

"Silly boy." Hermione snorted. "You're obviously without her, otherwise you would have already raised your wand toward me." She observed. "Let's face it, you do that a lot to be different this time. So, we get back to the point where I have the upper hand. "

Tom narrowed his eyes, breathing like a bull, his eyes focused on Hermione as the basement seemed to swirl with the discomfort he was feeling. That little witch managed to push his buttons in a way no one ever could. Her smart remark catching him off guard.

"You don't look very well," she observed. "Something left you _cold_?" She asked very seriously.

"What are you implying, Granger?" Tom practically growled. He didn't like the insinuation in Hermione's words. It is impossible that she was referring to the death of the Riddle family, there was no way she could know. Maybe it was his imagination, obviously, he would be suspicious of anything.

Hermione shrugged, putting a blank mask on her face.

"Where were we? Ah! Yeah. What's the counterspell, Riddle?" Hermione's tone changed. It was demanding and almost an order.

"I thought you were smart enough to find out." Tom licked his lips. She would never find out, this was true. Because it was a spell that himself created.

"Oh, I could try." She replied and Tom coughed to hide the laugh that threatened to break out. "But I thought for a while ..." Tom's green eyes returned to Hermione, paying attention to what she was saying. "Why not get the answer from the source of all my problems?" She continued.

Hermione stood up, the armchair she conjured disappeared. She used her full height, ie 5'5, to intimidate Riddle. That wasn't what made Tom Riddle think, but the wand she raised toward him.

"Are you going to torture me, Granger?" Tom almost laughed at the thought. _What would Dumbledore think of his favorite student torturing someone?_

"Why wouldn't I do that?" Hermione spoke through gritted teeth. She didn't like the fact that Tom didn't seem to take her seriously. "You did the same thing to me. Why shouldn't I return the favor? "

"Ah, here's the reason. Revenge." Tom said. "But I'm not surprised. The world revolves around that. "

"My motive is much bigger than that." Hermione contradicts him. "You think you know me, but you don't know anything about me. But I know a lot about you. What you're capable of, the things you do, the place you live." Hermione looked around. "Such pride coming from someone who is in a Muggle orphanage."

 _What a low blow,_ Hermione thought to herself. The truth is that he is not to blame where he was born and raised, it was not his choice and probably not something anyone would choose. No one wants to be an orphan and grow up in an orphanage.

Her words seem to hit him because she notices the swirl of uncontrollable emotions in his eyes that reflect her. But strangely, there is a sneer on Tom's lips.

"I didn't think you were so cruel, Miss Granger." he said. "I'm downright surprised," Tom continued.

"Proof you don't know me," Hermione replied.

"So...? What is going to be? The Cruciatus? Or are there some dark curses hidden in that little head? "

"Nothing other than what you deserve," Hermione said, raising her wand and pointing toward Tom.

Tom narrowed his eyes when he noticed the glow in the tip of the wand, she was decided, and then the sound of the basement door opening caught their attention. They both glanced toward the basement stairs when they heard footsteps, they looked at each other momentarily and a breath escaped their mouths before Hermione cast a Disillusionment charm, hiding from the muggle's vision.

Tom glanced at the place she hid, right in the corner of the basement, but still giving her a privileged view. For a moment he was jealous of her, that she could use magic so freely, then Mr. Wool appears, coming down the stairs with a buggy whip in his hand. Tom's eyes went straight to the whip. When Mr. Wool finished coming down the stairs, he stopped in front of Tom, in his breath, Tom could smell rum.

"Where have you been, kid?" He asked brutally.

In fact, even if the name of this gentleman is the name of the orphanage, it was who handled most of the child-related things, but whenever punishment was related, precisely to boys, Mr. Wool seemed to willing. Of course everyone grew up afraid to challenge Mrs. Cole and her severity, and that got worse when it came to Mr. Wool, but of course, that fear didn't apply to Tom. He was too sneaky, too smart to be caught in the breaches of rules he committed. Doubt could always hang in the air, but no one could point a finger at him and accuse. There was no evidence.

Here, they were afraid of Tom. The weird things that happened around him and how somehow he always seemed to be involved in the problems that happened, even if they couldn't prove it.

 ** _Crazy, had problems, evil incarnate, demon, the antichrist._** Tom has been called all of that. **_Doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, priests and even the beginning of an exorcism attempt._** All of this had once come to him, but obviously he managed to escape with the help of something that made him unique: **Magic**. It was easier at that time when he was a child, where even terrible things could be justified such as lack of control and self-preservation. Simply a child's attempt to defend himself, not now. Not when he is supposed to control magic.

So Tom blames Dumbledore again. Dumbledore 'breaks his legs' when he leaves him without his wand - supposedly defenseless - because of the stupid rules he has so attached to. And of course, Mr. Wool with all the grudge he has for Tom, wouldn't let his punishment pass and to make matters worse, he has Granger as an unwanted audience and he's chilling and sweating like a kettle.

"Where have you been, kid?" Mr. Wool asked again, almost growling.

Tom refused to answer, avoiding eye contact, trying to focus on anything other than Mr. Wool's face with rum breath. But apparently looking around was not a good idea. The basement seemed to spin more with the dizziness he was feeling, the pressure in Tom's ears made him ignore what Mr. Wool was saying, was when the whip hit the skin of Tom's arm.

Tom turned his head so hard toward Mr. Wool, that he looked like a big cat. He growled, jagging and baring his teeth in anger. The whip arm wound appeared in the shape of a bloodline, the fabric of Tom's social shirt tearing. The sight of his own blood made Tom's volatile emotions bubble.

 _How dare a muggle try to hurt him? The heir of Slytherin_. He would not allow himself to be flogged.

Tom reacts, trying to take the whip from Mr. Wool's hand. He's sick of having to come to this shitty orphanage, he's sick of faking it, taking orders from foolish people and having to put up with a smile on his face. He will no longer accept it. No longer.

But his body falters, doesn't cooperate with the work of his mind. All he knows is that he reaches for the whip, but his hand catches the emptiness. It is dizziness that makes him see things where they are not.

Mr. Wool pushes him, Tom falls and gets whipped again. This time the whip hits the center of his back. He grunts in pain.

"Where have you been, kid?" Mr. Wool asks again.

"I got to meet my dad." Tom answers through his teeth, trying to get up.

He stares angrily at the gray basement floor, fighting the tears of hatred and the burning pain in his back. _It wasn't supposed to be like this._

"And apparently _Daddy_ reneged you again." Wool sneers. "But I can't blame the man. Who would like to have a child with that horrible woman? Who would like to have a child like you? She gave birth to a demon. You don't fool me, boy." He points to Tom." I see the evil in you." Mr. Wool makes the sign of the cross. "God took pity of that man and drove him away from you."

Tom began to laugh at Mr. Wool's last sentence. _Did God have mercy of Tom Riddle Snr or the Riddle family? That could only be a joke._

Still laughing softly as the last remnants of his laughter, Tom turns his face toward Mr. Wool, he's still leaning on his arms - shaking with the effort - he swallows a shaky breath as the pupils in his eyes widen. His laughter dies and he breathes heavily like a bull.

"Yes." Tom agrees. "Yes, I'm all that and more." He says. "And I'll be your worst nightmare." Tom looks under his lashes. "And I promise you, that you and everyone else will pay me."

It's a threat he intends not to become an empty threat. He will fulfill whatever he is willing to conquer and master.

The whip hits him again and again and again and doesn't seem to stop. His back hurts and stings with each blow, but he refuses to cry or scream.

Hermione looks at that scene. At first, she thinks he deserves every blow he gets - that someone condemns her if wants - but Tom Riddle is vile and mean and all the things he has done - and will - deserve the most torturous punishment. However, when the whip hits him for the eighth time, her eyes start to burn with hot tears. She's scared at how he doesn't scream, just grunts in pain, but she can see his eyes with tears he refuses to give in. When a lonely tear runs down her cheek, she knows she can no longer see that scene.

Then she closes her eyes, but the sounds of the whip hitting Riddle, tearing the fabric of his shirt, Tom's grunts of pain and the old man's anger, seem worse.

She covers her ears, shaking her head from side to side, refusing to see or hear. But then, the unmistakable scent of blood seems to be carried by the basement dust into her nostrils, that's when she opens her eyes.

Hermione looks around, drawing her arms close to her body, a frightened look on her face. She has seen and experienced many acts that caused her to be in shock, but she has never been a spectator of such torture. Mr. Wool is nowhere to be seen and all that remains in the basement is her and Riddle.

She takes a hesitant step forward but soon hesitates to continue. Riddle is there, a few steps away from her, lying face down with the back of his bloody torn shirt. He is pale, so pale that the color of his skin is almost white and the contrast with the blood is bewildering. Strands of black hair like the color of a raven, falling down his face.

She swallows as she watches the fallen Dark Lord like a King who suffered a checkmate. Her breath sounds too loud for the environment that has become so quiet, and it is likely that the Disillusionment Charm she has cast upon herself is gone, as Tom Riddle's eyes open and he looks straight at her.

Hermione can't escape eye contact, she's stuck like a deer get stuck watching a car's light. Tom's eyes are bright green and pure, but there's hell burning in their color. The red veins are highlighted in the white sclera of his eyes, from the containing crying or even the hatred he transmits in a simple look he gives her. He shudders, with involuntary muscle spasms, he makes a deep throat sound as if he wants to contain the sound, but his eyes never escape her eyes. He doesn't even blink.

She doesn't know what to do. She runs away. She apparated to the safety of her island. To the safety of the tent.

Hermione almost vomited, but she managed to keep the contents of her stomach. She walks into the tent, putting her hand on her heart to calm the heartbeats, looking at Nix on his perch, who returns his gaze.

 _Hell, no one could judge me for leaving Riddle there._ That's what she tells herself for the thousandth time that early evening, after taking a shower, trying to forget the scene she saw.

She is sitting, staring at the wood of the table, her fingernails drumming on the porcelain cup of tea she drinks.

 _My conscience is clear._ She sighs, trying to make herself happy.

Hermione gets up, throws away the rest of the tea she was drinking, brushes her teeth and lies on the bed. Lying down, she looks up at the tent ceiling, her hands folded above the blanket, her thumbs tapping repeatedly, a reflection of her anxiety and thoughts that don't want to shut up.

 _Don't think about it. Don't think about it._ She repeats several times, but the sight of Riddle's body on the floor is very fresh and vivid. _He deserves. Of course he deserves it._ Hermione tries to convince herself.

She spends the next day trying to convince herself that she is doing right to ignore Riddle's conditions. Let's face it, he's done things a lot like that to other people, but she can't stop thinking it's too cruel. Maybe it was a catalyst for Riddle's anger, maybe it wasn't, but what she knows is that she thinks no one deserves such treatment.

She thought about herself as she was being tortured by Bellatrix - Riddle's fault again - and how she would like someone to save her as soon as possible. Of course, Harry and Ron came to her rescue, but for a fleeting moment, she thought she would die there and had the same hatred for Bellatrix that Riddle displayed to Mr. Wool.

"Don't even think about it!" She told to herself. "No, no, no! It's out of the question to help Riddle." Hermione continued. "What would Harry think? He will kill me if he knows! And all the others? What would they think of that? Obviously they would be unhappy! What about my parents? Argh! My mother would talk until my ears bleed because I didn't help. So…? He's Voldemort and I'm a Muggle-born Gryffindor. Riddle wouldn't think twice before letting me die there if the situation were different." She took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. We came to a conclusion. "

 _Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it._

Hermione apparated to the orphanage's basement.

She looks around to see if there are any muggles nearby and to her surprise, Riddle is still there, in the same position she left him. He has his eyes closed and shaking like a jackhammer.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, really reluctant to help him, but when Tom grunted slightly in his misery, she advanced toward him.

 _What am I doing?_ She wondered for the thousandth time.

She knelt beside him and put a hand on his back, making him hiss in pain like a snake when threatened.

"Riddle? Riddle?" She called him a few times. Hermione saw his eyelids flutter before he opened his eyes.

"G-Granger…?" Riddle muttered with a husky voice and dry lips.

"I'm here to help you. Can you get up? "She asked, watching his eyes roll in his eye sockets. "Come on, Riddle, help me so I can help you."

Hermione wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held him tightly around his abdomen, her grip taking some more grunts of pain from Riddle.

"Sorry," she muttered.

She noticed his effort to get up and when he stood up, his entire weight fell on Hermione. She flinched, trying to steady both of them. For a slender, muscular boy in perfect measure, Riddle was considerably heavy for Hermione. His head tilted forward, sweat-damp hair falling down his face. He tried to look at her, but when he opened his eyes, he probably thought it was a bad idea, given how quickly he closed his eyes again.

"Riddle, hold on to me. Try to hold on tight. I won't let you go." Hermione ordered.

At first, she doesn't know if he really heard her, but the squeeze of his hand on her shoulder made her realize that at least he was aware. She Apparated.

The first thing she did when she reached the tent was to put him in the bed, lying on his stomach. In addition to easing his weight on her, she needed to take care of his wounds. Riddle was at this point almost unconscious.

With the tip of her wand, she made a straight line on the side of Riddle's shirt, which was cut off as Hermione made the move. Underneath his dress shirt, he wore a white men's tank top, which Hermione removed with the help of her wand.

As soon as she looked at Riddle's back, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. There was blood and several line-shaped wounds had their flesh open. She wiped at the blood, feeling him shudder every time she touched him, then she took the potion kit to ease his pain and aid the healing process and lastly, Hermione applied an ointment to the seals them and then bandaged his back.

It was hard work, she wasn't a 's Healer, though she had plenty of knowledge. She took care of him like she took care of Ron, spending much of the night looking at him, sitting in an armchair near the bed, with Nix beside her on the arm of the armchair.

He had a fever, she had noticed. The way he was sweating indicated that he had gotten worse in the last few hours, which she diagnosed as an effect of his injuries, almost as if it could be an infection. She put a damp, cold cloth on his forehead to soften it.

Hermione wondered how Riddle couldn't defend himself against a lame man like Mr. Wool. Riddle was a tall, strong young boy, surely he could beat or push Mr. Wool away from him, yet he was acting strange since she had arrived in that basement. This is where Hermione looks at his hand.

 _The ring,_ she recognized. _The Horcrux. Creating a second Horcrux left him temporarily weak._

Hermione sighed, suddenly the notion of helping the young Dark Lord fell on her. She didn't know how he would react when he woke up, but she knew what he had already done and she wondered again if it was right to save Riddle.

Unwilling, she fell asleep. Taking care of a person already required a lot of attention, taking care of someone with Riddle's injuries was tiring, and certainly being alert against someone like Riddle required all body effort. Hermione wakes up in the middle of the night when she hears a loud noise. Riddle fell off the bed as he tried to get up.

"Riddle? Riddle!" She runs to him.

He is kneeling, breathing heavily, placing a hand on his head. She bends down to his level and tries to help him, but with one hand he shoves her.

Hermione rests on her elbows, looking at him, startled and surprised. She watches him stand up, tripping over his own feet, his wobbly walking as he bumps into things and throws everything he feels with his hand to the floor.

 _He is delirious._ She is insightful to note.

She doesn't know what caused this. Maybe it was his fever, maybe it was his belated reaction to try to defend himself. Hermione watched him take a few steps before falling hard and completely against the hardwood floor. She and Nix look at each other and then she slowly gets up and walks towards Riddle. With a strange expression that mixed curiosity and fear, Hermione hesitantly approached him. She notices that he passed out.

After she put him in the bed again, Hermione checks how his injuries are. She does so because she believes that some of Riddle's sudden movements may have hurt him even more. Fortunately, it's nothing serious, on the contrary, it was much better than a few hours ago. Magic is really amazing.

Hermione doesn't think Riddle could die if she had left him in the basement of the Wool Orphanage, having Horcrux make him technically immortal. Unless someone destroys the Horcruxes, Riddle would not have the final encounter with death, yet he can feel pain and hurt himself as far as she understands. Well, it's obvious he's only two Horcruxes, it's nothing compared to seven.

Her gaze falls on his ring. The Horcrux is right there, just inches from her, so easy now. Just take the ring off his finger and destroy it. She would be doing everyone a favor. Hermione took Riddle's hand, staring at the ring. Some might say she had a soft heart, she was classifying herself in this way. That is, she has compassion for broken things and people. Even if she was angry, Hermione tended to forgive or feel for people when she came to understand their motivations. For example, Snape. Snape was never kind to her, his comments to her were always sour and sarcastic. He thought she was just a Gryffindor smarty, yet after all, she still can't stop crying when she saw his death.

There was also Grawp, or when Dolores Umbridge injured one of the centaurs - that was cruel and she is ashamed of harming a centaur indirectly in order to have Dolores out of Hogwarts. There were also her attempts to give rights to the Elves.

She doesn't know if Riddle turned into Voldermot because he was born this way or if it was a series of factors that contributed to creating the monster, the only thing she knows is that things are really complicated.

Hermione drops his hand from hers, ignoring the ring on his finger. Ah, that urge to destroy Horcrux is there, just slip the ring off his finger and it's done. But she couldn't do that, first because as soon as Riddle woke up and missed the ring, he was going to kill her and second - and most importantly - was the timeline. Destroying Horcrux could now trigger a series of events that could change everything she knows.

 _You are already destroying the timeline._ The voice of her conscience was speaking. _Riddle shouldn't be in this tent._

That is right. Riddle shouldn't be here, however, she doesn't want to worsen the damage already done.

She looks at Riddle's face. Perfect is too little to describe it. Tom Riddle is really very handsome, Hermione knows that Riddle supposedly pulled all his father's genetics into appearance, but damn… she's pretty sure the love potion his mother gave Riddle Snr must have helped. The reality is Tom Riddle Jr is the perfect match of his parents' genetics. He took all the beauty of the Riddle family and took all the magic of the Gaunt family. A dangerous combination, certainly.

 **o0o**

Tom opened his eyes slowly, blinking repeatedly to adapt to his blurred vision. He looks up to find a pair of big orange eyes staring at him, surprised he retracts in one swift motion, banging the top of his head against the wood of the bed. He lets a little _ouch_ come out of his lips. He looks around, lifting his chest and leaning on his elbows, trying to understand where he is.

The owl above his head flies and lands on the perch, looking curiously at him. He watches his surroundings, noticing a broom that sweeps the floor alone, the sound of a boiling kettle and the smell of soup.

He looks under the blankets, realizing that he is not naked as he had originally thought. He still wears the same pants he remembers. Then he makes an analysis of his chest, which is well bandaged with clean bandages.

"Finally. I thought you would never wake up. "

The female voice catches his eye and he looks at the entrance and then sees Granger. Her hair is loose, a few strands to the side, she wearing pants that reach her calves and a short-sleeved shirt. Tom freezes, looking at her with huge unblinking green eyes, he retracts on the bed, his gaze never leaving her face.

That's when the memories come back to him. Granger saw things she shouldn't see, made threats she shouldn't do, and they offended each other, yet in the end she helped him. Granger sat in a chair near the bed and looked at him.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"What do you want?" He almost growled at her, but she didn't seem surprised by the tone of his voice.

"Nothing. I don't want anything," she replied. A moment of silence passed between them before she spoke. She sniffed a little and scratched her nose slightly as if she were as uncomfortable as he.

"I'll get the food. You must be hungry. When you're done, I'll check how the injuries are." She gestured with her finger.

"I don't want your pity." Tom almost spits out the words.

Pity is for the weak, for the foolish and he doesn't want to be part of this portion of the population. She offends him in the worst possible way with her pity. She shakes her head and sighs before getting up from the chair. Tom watches her movements curiously, indecisively, with anger still encapsulated within him. She comes back carrying a tray with a plate of soup and he looks at her like she's crazy.

Hermione makes no mistake, she's not a formidable cook, but she's not as bad as Ron made it sound either. Obviously she has no years of cooking experience or a knack for cooking, but her food is not bad. Ron's criticism was largely based on the influence of Salazar Slytherin's locket.

She sits in the chair she was occupying moments earlier with the tray on her lap and the soup bowl extended toward Riddle.

"I hope you enjoy. You need to eat." Hermione speaks softly. She doesn't want to attract Riddle's wrath and wants to be patient with him.

Riddle looks at her in disgust.

"I'm not hungry." He speaks and it seems he's so happy to deny her effort with his words.

"You need to eat." Hermione tries again.

"I'm not hungry." Tom growls at her.

Hermione gritted her teeth in frustration, her patience over. Just like that, so fast. He can get her crazy. He is like a spoiled and rebellious child, delighting in undoing the help and efforts of everyone else.

She took a deep breath, glaring at Riddle.

"Fine," she says abruptly. "Don't eat. Starve yourself. "

She gets up, taking the tray away from Riddle and turns her back on him. Riddle watches her from the bed, and that's when his stomach decides to make a long noise, loud enough for both of them to hear. She tries to control the threatening laughter.

 _Well done_ , she thinks wryly.

Of course, after two days without waking up, waking up only on the third day at noon, Riddle would wake up hungry.

Tom looks at her taking the food away. He knows she heard his stomach complain about the food, but she doesn't stop and doesn't come back with the tray. _This little witch…_ If she's thinking he's going to beg her, she's very wrong, however, she is moving further and further away.

 _Damn it!_ He curses mentally.

"Wait!" Tom says. She stops. "The food," he says. "I want the food."

She turns around, tray in hands.

"What's the magic word, Riddle?" She asks with a sneer on her face.

 _What a bitch!_

"P-please."

The word came out, almost as if he was choking on saying it.

Hermione almost corrected him, that he should say the word more softly, but she was content for the moment with his discomfort and his need to ask her. So she returned, sitting back and resting the tray on her lap, taking the soup bowl and lifting the spoon toward him, offering.

He narrowed his eyes again at her.

"I have hands," Riddle said and Hermione dropped the spoon into the soup bowl, which splashed a little on him.

"Ignorant," Hermione murmured, covering the word with a slight throat clearing. But that didn't go unnoticed for him.

Luckily she didn't take the soup away, handing him the soup bowl. He mixes the soup back and forth, trying to figure out what it tasted like. Hesitantly he takes the liquid to his mouth, tasting. Not bad, but not wonderful either, though it was certainly better than the cabbage soup he was eating at the orphanage due to Rationing.

He ate a few more spoonfuls, his stomach warming as he received food. It was quiet, but Tom knew he was being watched by her.

"I don't want your pity," he murmured, keeping his eyes toward the bowl.

"I have no pity."

At her response, he turned his head toward her.

"Why did you get me out of there? We don't have a good relationship, in fact, we are practically declared enemies and if I remember correctly you would do something similar. What a hypocrite." He shrugged.

"Hypocrite is you," Hermione replied. "You had already tortured me with one of the unforgivable curses. If I did that, it wouldn't be any different from what you did to me. "

"Then why? Weren't you happy with what you saw? Didn't you like it?" He said, throwing the tray with the bowl and spoon away, dropping the rest of the soup on the floor. With the noise, Nix flew off the perch.

"Pity and compassion are different things!" She shouted at him, rising from her chair.

They both fell silent, breathing heavily.

"If you didn't like my help, that's fine. Get up." She walked to a trunk and took off one of Harry's shirts. "Get dressed." Hermione tossed the shirt on the bed. "I'll take you back to that place. Come on, let's go! "

Tom fell silent, his hands gripping the covers tightly. He didn't want to go back to this place, not to that hell. His relationship with Granger can be complicated, but she's familiar, with her he doesn't have to fake it, he doesn't have to hide about magic.

He looks around. He sees the bookcase full of books about spells and potions, even some muggle books. He sees the alchemy table with the cauldron, he sees the broom sweeping alone, he sees the owl that is back on the perch. Here is something he likes. All this is what he likes, what he considers normal, is an environment he dreams of conquering for himself, is magic and she is giving the opportunity to stay.

"Otherwise," Hermione speaks more softly as she observes the negative movement of his head. "Don't treat me badly. Don't act like I've done something bad to you. "

He nods. A moment of awkward silence sets in.

"Okay, get up," she says. _What? But I hadn't agreed with her? You can never trust._ "Sit here, I want to check how the wounds are."

Her words cut his thinking. He blinks solemnly and after a few seconds he gets up slowly. When he is standing, Tom feels his leg muscles tremble, because of the long-time lying in the bed.

He takes hesitant steps toward the stool she indicated. As he sits, he feels her settle behind him. She begins to undo the bandages and when it is over, he feels her fingers gently trace the wounds.

"They are healing. One more day and soon they won't be visible." She explains to him, rubbing the ointment on his back. "I think you can move now, they certainly didn't bother you anymore. However, I'll still leave with the ointment and the bandage to finish the healing process. "

Tom simply keeps silent. He feels her begin to wrap the bandage around him, the silence is awkward, but he ignores it. Her warm breath touches his skin as she approaches to wrap the bandage across his chest, signaling him to raise his arms a little.

When she finishes, he feels her move away. She doesn't seem to mind seeing him basically half-naked. He knows he's considered handsome by the other girls, he understands that his physique is attractive, he doesn't know how much it is for Granger now that she has seen the scars on his back. But damn, he knows what he's capable of, not with Granger, though.

Tom turns toward Hermione, who is handing him clothes. The shirt and a clean pair of pants this time.

He approached her, looking at her with his eyes slightly closed, the intense green of the color of his iris. He was taller than she, which forced Hermione to raise her head a little to face him. The intensity of his gaze was different from other times and she didn't know how to react to it, but against her will, her cheeks flushed.

Tom watched the color on her cheeks before she blinked and cut the eye contact, offering him the clothes. He took the clothes with one hand. Suddenly Hermione snapped her fingers, the broom stopped sweeping and went toward Hermione's hand, which caught her.

"Take it." She handed the broom to Tom.

"What am I going to do with it?" Tom asked. It was an ordinary broom, a muggle broom.

"Clean up the mess you made," she replied, pointing to the floor with shards of the bowl and the rest of the soup that spilled. "I'm not your maid."

Tom narrowed his eyes at her.

* * *

 **Echis carinatus, also known as Saw-Scaled Viper. The ninth most poisonous snake in the world.**

 **Author's Note: Hello guys, I would like to know some things and this will only be possible with your help; just a few questions.**

 **1) I want to know what you think about the text. As you know, English is not my native language, so I would like to know if text translation is good for you or if text needs to improve.**

 **2)About the story, what are you thinking? Is the story in a good rhythm? Is it too slow?**

 **3)And most importantly, are the characters well-represented or they are too OC? I know this is a fanfic and that the chosen pair, ie Tomione, already makes it very original, but I wish you had some feeling of recognition with the characters.**

 **Those who can help me by answering me, I greatly appreciate it. Please, guys, don't leave me in the dark.**

 **Please, review!**


	11. Capítulo 10 Micrurus

**Forgive me for taking so long to post the chapter. Unfortunately, I received a private message that shook my structures about this story. I was very sad to be called by certain words. I really thought about deleting this story.**

 **Merry Christmas! This is the only way I have to give you a gift. Thank you all for showing me kindness and for leaving a comment and favoriting.**

 **My special thanks to** CCBPotter, Lorelin, ALIASTESIN, la canelle, SissyPerigrin, Lost O'Fallon Girl, ,Timberli, 1Deivle, lucian87.

 **English is not my mother tongue, so I hope you understand if I have any errors in the text. Let me know so I can correct it.  
Thank you, I love you guys!**

* * *

_Chapter 10. Micrurus_ \-  _Nowhere._

After he finished cleaning - something he did cursing her mentally all the time - Tom curiously looked around, trying to figure out where he was and to see what Granger had. The first thing he did was look at the books about magic she had. He realized that she wasn't obsessed with just one theme, in other words, there were several books about various spells and potions.

 _Frankly, Granger has vast knowledge_. He admits to himself grudgingly. But what surprised him most was that she was reading about advanced magic, far ahead of Hogwarts fifth and sixth grade. Well, he can't judge her, given the fact that when he was in second grade, he already read and practiced magic of sixth and seventh grade, but this behavior is not common. _But what is common when it comes about Granger?_

He looks at a slightly misplaced book as if recently placed on the shelf. _Magic and Time_ , he reads, but doesn't touch.

Tom walks, his long, pale fingers making a smooth path across the table where the cauldron and potion pots were. He makes a mental note, looking with interest at everything he could, yet he doesn't touch anything. Granger seems too organized to notice if something was out of place.

He goes into the small room with a two-seater sofa, a shag rug with a coffee table and an armchair. He doesn't have to walk far to go to the kitchen, there is also a small dining table. This all seems very lonely to him, so he asks himself a question: _Where are Granger's parents?_

Tom has decided, he needs some answers and he will get from Granger. He looks to the right where the light comes in and finally decides to go out to talk to Granger. The first thing he does when he leaves is to stumble. And guess what? This is not common for him. Tom Riddle always had great posture and balance, however, he wasn't prepared to step on the soft sand when he left. Tom quickly redid his composure, now looking back and forth, not expecting to see the beach landscape. He looks left and then right, noting the length of the beach and the foliage that indicated he was far from civilization. Or at least, far from industrial civilization.

His eyes finally fall on the small figure sitting on the flatter sand, facing the sea, watching the sun. Granger. He walks over to her.

Hermione had to move away from Riddle's presence to get her thoughts in order. She didn't know how she should act now that she helped Riddle and brought him to the island, to her refuge. One thing is to be in his presence while he was still unconscious, but now he is lucid and awake. Hermione knows she won't escape Riddle's questions, he is very observant, she just needs to keep the same line of reasoning and keep a safe distance with the 'walls of protection' erected against him.

"Where are we?"

 _Speaking of the devil_ , she thought.

Riddle had stopped right beside her, she looked right, expecting to find his face, but all she saw was the pelvis area and his legs. She blushed at the sight and his closeness to her, Hermione looked up to find Riddle staring at her from above, his hands in his pants pockets. She blinked a few times.

"Where are we?" He repeated.

Tom looked at her, watching the way she was sitting, hugging her legs and the wand in one hand. Her cheeks were rosier than he remembered and he looked toward the sea and the sun she was staring at. T _here is the reason. Now things were making more sense._

She got up to face him.

"Nowhere." She answered simply, Tom narrowed his eyes at her answer.

"I'm not kidding, Granger. Where are we? "

"Nowhere," Hermione replied again, raising both eyebrows as she explained to him.

"Can you answer the question?" His tone increased slightly due to the frustration he was beginning to feel.

"We're, literally, Nowhere." She raised her voice a little, gesturing around. "It's an island."

Tom narrowed his eyes again at her, doubting the credibility of the words coming out of her mouth.

"We are on a small, really small, island that is surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean somewhere near Europe. Apparating without knowing or seeing the chosen destination is really difficult. Naming the place you want to go makes it easier for the wizard or witch to remember the place. When I first came to the island, I had only imagined a secluded place that was close to the sea and well, here we are. So I named the island." Hermione explained.

"You mean to tell me that you named the island 'Nowhere,' Granger?" Tom asked skeptically and Hermione shrugged. "Such a lack of creativity." He continued and it was Hermione's turn to narrow her eyes at him.

Tom Riddle made a mental note. _She knows how to apparate_.

He sighed and rolled his eyes as she began to speak, trying to justify herself and explaining that it was not a lack of creativity.

 _Sure she's from Gryffindor, she's always trying to make a point_.

Tom scratches his ear with his little finger, trying to tell her that he doesn't give a shit about her explanation, that she's talking too much and that her words make him bored at best. But a sound that shouldn't be in this heavenly environment catch Tom's attention. He stared in alarm at the horizon of the beach.

"Shut up." He orders Hermione.

Hermione is about to answer, her tongue itching to say no one tells her to shut up when she hears the sound too. She stops, looking in the same direction that Riddle is looking, hearing the sound approach. Hermione steps forward.

"Granger." Tom calls her, recognizing the kind of sound that was coming their way.

"Shut up." It's her turn to order.

Riddle takes her wrist with an iron grip, but not in a way that hurts her. It is at that moment that the owners of that noise appear. Warplanes, they were the Luftwaffe, the German Air Force, passing right now over their heads.

Riddle's hand goes from her wrist to her arm, holding tightly while keeping his eyes trained on the planes until they disappear on the horizon again.

"They ignored us," he muttered.

"Not interested, basically because they couldn't see the island."

"What did you do?" Tom asked, his head gesturing at her wand.

"I put on protections," she replied. "Repello Muggletum is one of them."

"What is the extent of the spell?" He asked curiously.

"The whole island?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Fascinating." Tom complimented. Hermione was surprised by the compliment, her eyebrows went to the limit and her mouth formed a small 'O'. Realizing what he had done, Tom soon corrected himself. "Don't be so happy, Granger. I just hope you didn't put us on a war route. "

He seems particularly troubled and walks toward the tent as if he already owns that island.

In the tent, there is the awkward silence as Hermione sets the dinner table. Riddle is sitting in the far armchair of the room, quiet and unmoving, his legs crossed male, looking curiously around, sometimes looking at her in a very fleeting way.

 _Yeah, certainly very lonely._ Tom notices. He is waiting for the right moment to start questioning her, to know how far what she says is true, where the lies are. There is something wrong with this situation, he is sure of it. So, he manipulates Hermione in a way that she doesn't realize is under his domain, namely: Silence.

People are uncomfortable when they are in an environment with someone else but who is silent. People feel the need to establish a conversation, something to build empathy, very long periods of silence bother them. Tom waits patiently for the perfect opportunity to begin to reach his goal.

"What do you think?" She asked softly.

 _This is the perfect time_ , he smiled to himself.

"About?" He replies.

"The airplanes. This is the first time I've seen them pass through the island. "

"For more accurate information, we'd have to go to Muggle civilization." Tom shrugs.

"Do you think something happened?"

"Something's always happening," He continued. "Muggles are at war."

"It's not much different, isn't?" Hermione muttered. "The Muggle War and the Grindelwald War."

"I don't know." Tom looked at her. "I've _never_ been in a war." There was malice behind his words, judging the truth of the facts that Hermione had told everyone else.

"No." She looked down, her gaze thoughtful and sad. "It's not very different."

And it wasn't very different. The Grindelwald War, the Muggle War, the Voldemort War all had incredible and sad similarities.

"The soldiers were knocking from door to door in each orphanage, looking for young boys old enough to enlist" Tom admitted, drawing Hermione's gaze to him.

"And what did you do?" She asked curiously.

"I'm not old enough-" He didn't seem to care about her curiosity. "- yet." Tom finished the sentence.

"You don't want to enlist, do you?" Hermione deciphered.

"It's definitely something I have very little interest in."

They sat at the table after Hermione set the plates, sitting facing each other. Hermione silently keeps her eyes toward her plate.

"I need the knife," Tom says suddenly. Hermione's gaze goes to the fork he holds. She hesitates, unsure that it would be wise to tell him where the knives were.

"Or you could lend me your wand for me to do a simple cutting spell." Tom suggests, raising one eyebrow, the upper corner of his mouth slightly raised with a mini smile.

Hermione stops, holding her cutlery, she swallows hard.

"They're in the first drawer in the kitchen." She responds quickly.

Tom gets up from the table and she hears a little laugh from him, it doesn't take long for him to come back and sit in his place again. He cuts the meat off his plate, looking straight at her.

"You're afraid of me." Tom states.

Hermione debated internally what she should say.

"It's not fear; it's caution." She doesn't deny it but also gives a more appropriate name for her attitudes. "We have a history of interactions that is, to say the least, interesting."

They eat in silence for a few more minutes before Tom asks:

"Where does the food come from?"

"Hm…" Hermione finished chewing before answering. "I apparate, buy what I need and come back."

"You know how to apparate," Tom says. "I thought we'd learn that skill this new year at Hogwarts."

Hermione has trouble swallowing and almost choked, coughed a few times before drinking the glass of water offered by Tom. She makes a noise in her throat and takes a deep breath.

"I learned."

"Don't we need License to Apparate? If not, isn't it breaking the law? " Tom raises an eyebrow, bringing a piece of meat to his mouth with the aid of his fork. "How curious." He smiled.

Hermione understood the intentions behind his words.

"I learned from someone in the -"

"war in France." He concluded the sentence for her. She looked at him, realizing then how much she had already used this excuse.

"Yeah, that's right." She held herself back. "This person told me that if I didn't have a means of escape that was fast enough if things got too hard, then I could die. That's why this person taught me." Hermione lied, the words flowing like water and she was impressed with herself.

"France, isn't it?" Tom put the cutlery on the plate. "You have no accent."

Hermione blinked, politely wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

"Accent?" She questioned.

"Well, if you came from France, fought in the war in France and studied at Beauxbatons, your English should be - if only a little - affected." He concluded. "But you're very _English_ , to be honest."

"That's because _I'm English_."

"Oh. So please clarify the events. I'm afraid that I'm a little confused." Tom leaned against the table, being drawn toward Hermione. "Where are your parents, Granger?"

Tom watches her gaze fall, the slight intake of air she takes and how she clasps her hands in her lap. He doesn't need an audible answer, he already knows what the answer is. _Death_.

"Far more than enough that I may never see them again." Her voice wavered at her mysterious words.

"If you're English, why did you go to Beauxbatons?" He asks.

"I didn't attend."

"No?"

"No." She replies. "That's why I don't have a French accent. I went to Ilvermorny. "

"The American school? " Tom frowned in confusion. Hermione watches in his eyes, trying to connect all the pieces of the story she was telling. "Why? Why not go to Hogwarts from the start? "

 _Oh, Merlin, this story is getting worse and worse,_ Hermione thinks.

"I don't know. I just choose one of the schools, I think." She shrugged. "I was born in England, just like my parents and I chose to go to Ilvermorny, I studied for a few years there, my parents moved to France, Grindelwald happened, I went to their aid, they left, I fought the war against Grindelwald, I asked Professor Dumbledore's help and here I am." Hermione lied, that was the most lies she said in a minute.

"Where does Dumbledore fit into all this?" Tom asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze still on Hermione.

"Dumbledore is a longtime friend. A kind of godfather, that would be a better way of describing it." She licks her lips.

Tom squinted, the mention of Dumbledore's name lovingly coming out of her mouth leaves a small spark of anger in him.

"Does he know I'm here?" He asked. "With you?"

 _Why did he want to know about that?_ Hermione wondered. _Would it be wise to tell him the truth? Say no one knows the location of the island? That nobody knows their whereabouts?_

"I doubt that very much," Hermione replied, watching his reaction, noting how he relaxed - almost imperceptibly - at her words and how the scowl on his face melted away. "You really don't like him, do you?"

Tom paused for a moment, looking back at her.

"There's nothing to like."

"Why? He's a good man, a good teacher, a good person. "

Tom snorted at her comment.

"He's as bad as Azkaban's worst prisoner. Dumbledore is so afraid. A coward, that's what he is. The neutrality and impartiality he seeks so much will be his ruin. "

" That's not true." She contradicts Tom.

"It's true and you can't deny it. If you think he's so good, why didn't you tell him about our relationship at Hogwarts? I mean, before I put the curse on your tongue. Do you think he didn't know something was wrong? That he didn't notice? He may not know what it is, but he knows that something is going on. In the Ministry, everyone gossips about what the Mighty Wizard will do, yet he hides. What a coward. "

"That's very Gryffindor _coming from you_." Hermione narrows her eyes and hears a low, hoarse laugh from Tom.

"It's not me he's embarrassing. It's you and your House. "

She stared at him, only then noticing the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You are teasing me" Hermione muttered, earning a sideways smile and a raised eyebrow from Tom "If this was a provocation, then tell the truth: Why you don't like Dumbledore?"

"More than half of what I said it's true. He is an old fool and coward and I don't think he deserves the title he has. That's why. "

"You hate him because you disregard him? There has to be more." She frowned in confusion. If there's one thing she learned about Riddle is that he was a complex person.

"If is true, why don't you find out then?" Tom challenged her, his green eyes sparkling.

Hermione stared at him, her gaze didn't waver, she sat up straighter.

"I-I think ... I think you hate him because he knows about the orphanage and the things that happen there, but he did nothing to change that." Hermione looked down after seeing the expression on a white tone.

Some seconds passed, but it seemed like hours, when she looked up at him, Hermione found him staring at her, the shadow of a smile wanting to appear and a mischievous look staring at her.

"Um… what do we have here? A smart girl." Tom's long, pale index finger lightly tapped Hermione's nose. The action made Hermione freeze in shock and surprise. Tom didn't deny it, yet he didn't claim that what she said was correct.

Before they could continue, Nix made a noise, demanding that Hermione allow him to hunt.

"What is it?" Tom asked.

"It's Nix. He wants to hunt." She replied, going to Nix's cage and freeing him to fly.

Tom watched Hermione's owl fly out into the night sky.

"Did you name him 'Nix?'"

"Yes, because Nyx was—" Hermione couldn't finish speaking because Tom already knew the answer.

"The protector of wizards and witches. Yeah, I already know." He answered. "But is this serious, Granger? Nix? For a male owl?" Tom raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You have a bad taste for names."

That night Hermione showed Tom where the bathroom was and handed him a new change of clothes that belonged to Harry, to make him more comfortable when he went to sleep. She waited for him patiently, avoiding thinking about what she was doing all the time. When not confronting him, it was much easier to question her actions.

When he came out of the bathroom through the steam, Tom was shirtless, wearing only his pants and holding the towel around his neck. She was there, waiting for him, ready and with her wand, the bandages, and ointment in hand. She looked him up and down and then gestured for him to sit in front of her. Tom walked slowly to her and sat on the stool she indicated. She repeated the procedures she had done this morning, adjusting his bandages well. As soon as she was done she got up with a sigh coming from her lips.

"You should dry your hair well. You just got out of a fever." Hermione scolded him gently. She didn't know why she was saying that. It's not like he could die.

Tom Riddle looked at her, putting on the shirt she had offered while still sitting. He is trying to figure out what she gets by doing all this and watches with interest as she goes from attack mode to defense mode and then to kindness in minutes. The meaning of the word strange is too little to describe what Granger is. However, he thinks this is only part of her personality. Curiously, she was afraid of him and yet here she was worried about his health. _I can almost laugh._

She stops for a moment, the wand in her hand, she whispers a spell and he feels his hair dry. _Magic is amazing._

Granger smiles softly at him, a polite and restrained smile.

"While you were in the bathroom, I prepared a dorm for you." Hermione said, Tom got up and followed her closely. She opened the door to a small but decent room with a bed with blankets and pillows. Beside the bed, a small table with a lamp. It wasn't much, but it was cozy and enough. It didn't look like she was expecting company on her stay on this island.

He nodded, entering the room, looking around. Tom turned to her, she was standing in the doorway.

"Well, I think it's good night then." Hermione turned and closed the door.

After doing her nightly routine, Hermione was lying on her bed in her room with her wand under the pillow. She was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, her hands on the blankets with her thumbs repeatedly tapping against each other. She was nervous and would probably have trouble sleeping tonight. Yeah, it would really be hard to have a peaceful sleep, especially when the Dark Lord was a few feet from her, conscious and regaining his strength. Hermione was really trying not to think about their conversation, but it's inevitable. Talking to Tom Riddle is one of the things she never thought would do. She tried to take her compassion out of the game and focus on the logical part. Maybe if she lived with him, analyzed him well, she could understand him. Decipher it. And maybe when she returned to the time she belonged, she could foresee his actions and then help everyone.

She was asleep after a few hours awake. It was the relaxing first part of sleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took, and at that moment, the locket that was in her neck began to pop out from under her t-shirt. Even though still trapped around Hermione's neck, the locket levitated, the Parseltongue whispers began again. The green details - very similar to the color of the Slytherin House - of the medallion seemed to glow.

Hermione woke up, sleepily blinked a few times to adjust her view and was startled to see the locket levitating, the only thing keeping the locket from going was the cord that held it around her neck. In one swift motion, she held the locket in one hand and lifted her chest to look around. Everything, exactly everything, was levitating.

Hermione got up, took her wand and left the room. The other environments also had the objects levitating. Not even Nix, inside his cage, could escape. She went straight to Riddle's room, as she opened the door, she found the blankets, lamp and everything else floating, just the bed and Riddle that remained where they should be.

 _Magic._

She looked at him, noticing that he was still unconscious, asleep. Hermione slowly approached him, not realizing that her presence made the floating objects return to the place they should never have left.

She raised a hand toward Riddle, when he spoke a few words in Parseltongue, she stopped instantly. Hermione didn't understand what he was saying, but judging by the scowl he was making, Riddle might very well be having a nightmare. She waited for a moment, their breathing the only sound in the room, trying to figure out what might disturb the Dark Lord's sleep. The answer was simple: **many things**.

Who knows what Riddle saw or did. Maybe this was a form of punishment, never having a peaceful sleep.

When he scowled and whispered something else, she decided it was time to wake him up.

"Riddle?" She called him quietly.

Before Hermione could touch him, Riddle's hand caught Hermione's wrist and his green eyes widened in shock, which soon turned to anger and caution.

"What are you doing?" He asked accusingly.

Surprised, Hermione tried to pull her arm from his grip, but Riddle wouldn't allow it. She sighed.

"You were having a nightmare, I think ..." She said passively. Someone had to be the logical person in this situation. He stared at her for a few seconds, looking her up and down warily, before letting her arm go. He sat up, leaning his upper body against the wood of the bed and Hermione sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay? Feeling a fever?" She asked and before he could answer, she put her hand on his forehead, brushing his hair back to measure the temperature. "Um ... no."

He swallowed.

"I'm fine, Granger." Tom answered quickly and remove her hand from his forehead. The constant contact with her, made him feel weird with feelings he didn't recognize, and so, he avoided.

Hermione didn't force him.

"You don't always have to be defensive," She said.

"Look who's talking." Tom snorted.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"I am trying to raise the white flag. If we're living together, I think the least is that we don't always have to keep an eye on our backs. What I mean is that I've had countless opportunities to hurt you, and yet I chose not to. You don't see? I don't want to create enmity with you. I don't want to be your enemy." She said. At least not in this time.

To her surprise, he said:

"Very well. I won't pretend to you, I haven't done it before, let alone do it now. You saw what you saw, you know what I am and what I am capable of. Maybe your unwillingness to be my enemy is the best thing you ever did. "

She growled at him.

"No threats."

He gave a little laugh.

"And what fun would it be?"

A minute of silence passed longer than it should. Hermione hesitantly looked at Riddle and found him staring at her intently, as if he'd never stopped staring at her. He folded his arms in front of his body.

"Tell me what you want to tell me." Tom rolled his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She tried, speaking softly for fear of his reaction. It was understood that she was referring to his dream.

"No." He didn't even seem to think about Hermione's proposal. _Who would say? Granger as my private psychologist._

Tom watched her slight tremor with the raw tone of his voice. For some reason unknown to him - which he was unwilling to give meaning - Tom made a sound in his throat before redeeming himself for his brutality.

"No. Because I don't remember." He tried to make his voice softer. _No one bites the hand that feeds it._

Hermione nodded and didn't try anymore, but a minute of awkward silence came and she was more than willing to get out of that awkward situation when Riddle said:

"My magic reacts to you. Why?" He asked.

"What?" She turned her face toward him in one swift movement, her expression a slight confusion.

"Do you think I didn't notice? Now? Tonight? Just like the time I touch you at Hogwarts? My magic reacts to something in you and I want to know why."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione quickly denied even to her own credibility.

In one swift motion, Riddle advances on her, his pale long-fingered hand reaching behind Hermione's neck, his fingers circling perfectly. Treacherously, the Time-Turner betrays Hermione when the skin of Riddle's fingers touches the steel of the cord. The Time-Turner seems to heat, a charge of energy goes through both. It's not Hermione specifically that Tom's magic reacts to, it's the Time-Turner, just as she reacts. And apparently when she, him and the Time-Turner get in touch ... _Boom!_ It happens.

They gasped, letting out their breath. Riddle was very close to Hermione, his face only inches from her face. She could feel his breath caressing her skin, both caught in each other's eyes. Tom smiled. It wasn't a smile of happiness, not a polite smile, it was a smile that showed his confidence or the sense of power he was feeling, and it made Hermione's eyes widen wildly at that realization.

"That's what I'm talking about." He told her, his eyebrows lowered, matching his piercing gaze. "What's this?" His gaze went from Hermione's face to her neck, where he saw a part of the steel cord.

Hermione turned away from him at once, removing his hand from her neck.

"What's this?" He demanded.

"It's a necklace." She answered and Tom narrowed his eyes.

"It's not an ordinary necklace."

"It's a magic necklace."

"Tell me what the necklace does and why my magic reacts to it." He ordered.

Hermione frowned, outraged at his demand.

"It's a magic necklace that's what it is."

"Granger." His tone was a warning.

"I don't have to tell you anything! If you want to know about the necklace, then why not tell me about your ring?" Hermione said, playing with the one thing she knew would make the young Dark Lord back off, and she wasn't wrong. As soon as Tom heard the word 'ring', he backed away, hugging his hand to his chest. "Do you think I didn't feel the magic?" She continued.

Hermione watched as Riddle clenched his right hand into a fist and his left hand covered his right hand, denying her the sight of the ring.

He looked at her, licked his lips to moisten.

"Very well, we'll keep our secrets for now."

Hermione jumped to her feet.

"I don't care about your secrets, so I don't think you will know about mines. I didn't even care what you did. It was you who dragged me into the Room of Requirement! "

" What? What did you say? " He asked.

"That I don't want to know about your secrets?" She wondered at the sudden change in his tone.

"No. In the end. You said 'Room of Requirement'. How do you know the name of this room, Granger?" He rose from the bed slowly, Hermione's gaze widening as she realized her mistake and even more as she watched Riddle get up from the bed.

"Never mind." She turned and started walking toward her room. Tom followed her closely, the sound of their heavy footsteps echoing.

"Granger, get back here!" He ordered, pointing to the floor like she was a pet.

They were on opposite sides, Hermione entered her room and turned to face Tom.

"Good night!" She slammed the door in his face. She heard him practically growl on the other side of the door, his footsteps and how he slammed his bedroom door too. Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

 **o0o**

Tom awakens after a turbulent night with thoughts of Granger. After that heated discussion, of course, the _little witch_ would stay in his system, taking away his peace.

He gets out of bed and as much as he tries to ignore it, he makes his bed. It is a custom that was learned at the orphanage. All children must make their beds.

Tom opens the bedroom door, he was prepared for the confrontation. _All weapons raised_. But all he finds is silence. He goes to the kitchen and is surprised to find breakfast for him. Tom is tempted to refuse the food, his pride is speaking louder, however, he knows that food is a source of energy and if she decides to kick him out of the island, this will be the last decent meal he will have when he returns to the orphanage.

He sits at the table and waits for her for five minutes, hoping she will join him, but the answer is obvious. After he finishes eating and cleaning what has to be cleaned, he does his morning routine. There are clothes waiting for him in the bathroom. Tom narrows his eyes, but he finds himself unable to refuse. When he came out of the bathroom, she is waiting for him in the living room.

"Good morning." Hermione is polite.

"Good morning." He replies.

She gestures for him to sit on the stool in front of her, Tom does what she asked. He looks at nothing, much more focused on the soft-touch she makes on his back. It's very different from the burning side of her personality that confronted him every time.

"You're bipolar," Tom said suddenly.

"What?" She paused for a moment.

"You're probably bipolar," He explained. "Your changes in emotions and actions are constant."

She snorted.

"I'm not bipolar." She denied. "But my 'constant changes of emotions' are greatly influenced by your attitudes."

"My bad." Tom replied, not really apologizing. He could hear her little laugh as if she knew he would never apologize and he found himself joining her.

Hermione was silent, she concluded that her work was done. Riddle's back was smooth and uninjured, except for a small line that resembled the whiplash injuries Riddle received. These small lines looked old and healed and were at the base of Riddle's back, she probably didn't notice them because she was so focused on his larger wounds.

She found herself tracing the path of the wounds with her fingers and felt Riddle stiffen in her hand.

He sighed, forcing himself to relax.

"I hadn't seen these."She murmured, very kind and soft.

"Once for never again" Tom said.

"Hm?" She looked over his shoulder, trying to see his face, but he was staring at the rug.

"Once for never again" he repeated. "Once caught never again," he explained.

Hermione knew that there was more. She wondered if he would react brutally if she asked, but she didn't hold back.

"What happened?"

He mused, took a while for him to respond, probably wondering if he would give her another part of the story of his miserable life. - The life he will change. Because one thing is he sure: One day he will be on top.

"I was a kid," Tom replied. "I wanted candy. I went into the hidden pantry, grabbed some candy and went to my dorm, Billy Stubbs busted me, Mrs. Cole came along with Mr. Wool and I was punished. First was my hand, so that I would learn never to steal. I healed my hand because it was unacceptable to have such a visible reminder. But, I leave the mark on my back for me to remember that it was once for never again."

It was then that little Tom Riddle rebellion began. After a few more events, little Tom began to become cold and calculating. He took the other children's things for the simple pleasure of doing and not getting caught, of seeing their frightened expressions. _Definitely once for never again._

Hermione listened attentively and silently, with her wand and ointment, she did magic. A few seconds later she got up and took a mirror with both hands.

"Well, why don't you see for yourself?" She suggested.

Tom got up slowly, he took his full height and looked over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror. His back was smooth as it always should have been. His ivory skin was perfect and as healthy as it could be in its hue.

All the wounds were gone, all the wounds had healed. **She had healed everything.**

Tom's eyes go from his reflection to her. He looks at her intensely and sees her in a new light, one that he may have denied at first. She is valuable. He will give her the benefit of the doubt, more patience and he will listen to what she has to say. She is smart and talented. He will give her two favors. Rewards for what she did for him. She gave him a place to be, protection and took care of his health, even after all. She also took him out of the miserable boring orphanage. Much more than others have given him.

Tom completely turned his body toward her.

"When we get back to Hogwarts, I'll take the curse I put on you." He speaks suddenly, never saying this is a form of thanks.

Hermione blinked, surprised that this subject had come up. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, not knowing what to say.

"That would be really nice," she replies, almost wanting to smile.

Tom walks slowly towards her, Hermione tries to look anywhere but at him, he's still shirtless and she has to admit to herself that Riddle makes her disconcerted and embarrassed. She can't stop the slight flush that starts on her cheeks. Without realizing it, she holds the mirror, trying to put a barrier between him and her. She can tell that he seems to be at least amused by her attitude.

Tom's confidence returns as he looks at her flushed cheeks. Somehow she is not immune to him.

"So…?" He makes his voice sound purposefully low. "Do you want to tell me about this necklace you wear?"

"Do you want to tell me what this ring is?" Hermione arched an eyebrow. Riddle snorted and retracts a step, Hermione smiled inwardly at herself.

She walks away, putting the mirror in place, watching Tom put on his men's tank top and then put on his shirt. When he is done, Tom looks at her, tilting his head to the side, his gaze intense. Suddenly he closes his eyes and smiles without showing his teeth. Hermione swallows, watching his expression. Whatever thought he was having, she only knows one thing:

 **It all started from now.**

* * *

 **Micrurus corallinus is one of the species of the coral snake, the true coral. The tenth most poisonous snake.**  
 **Please, review what you think!**


	12. Chapter 11 - Dispholidus

**My special thanks** ALIASTESIN , CCBPotter ,Guest , Ladycrafter , Joe ,Charleneclark1988 ,beccasullivanwrites1 , Guest,crazyKate92 ,Black Banshee ,HpMarrzi,1Deivle,KyloRen'sgirl213 ,Jun, Infernalbooks , Merih, bananapipie , Evilhyperpixie13 , mymi092 , Noone121212 **for showing me your kindness in reviews.**

 **And to all the others who favored.**

 **I really want to thank you for every comment I received. All the words were beautiful, giving me all the support and kindness, and made me realize that this is really a hobby, but now, it makes me want to write for people like you. I now feel compelled to write, not because of pressure, but because I feel happy. And I think the world would really be better if there were more people like you.  
Thank you very much, from the bottom of my heart I thank you guys. **

**Thanks for 105 review, 261 Followers and 145 Favorites. I'm so happy!**

 **English is not my mother tongue, so I hope you understand if there is an error in the text. Let me know so I can fix it.  
I love you guys!**

* * *

 _Chapter 11. Dispholidus_ _- The cabin from hell.  _

Tom was looking at her a few times. Looking at her from under his lashes, the green iris seemed to shine in the light that came from the entrance to the tent and touched his face. He looked at her again, this time taking longer, taking every detail he could.

Her figure was against the light, the edge of her shape shining in the sun, her hair turning a strange shade of brown and honey, her cheeks pink from the sun and the few freckles on the tip of her nose. Her lips were also pink and not makeup, Granger looked like a girl who really wore little makeup and only dared when necessary. It was the sun that gave her a healthy look and color. She had considerably long straight lashes and deep, almost, feline eyes with the color that could turn caramel when the light reflected off them or as dark as the brown of a tree trunk in the absence.

Why did he notice all this? Because he thought she was beautiful and he didn't know how much or if it affected him. Tom is not taking it too seriously, he can consider what he thinks is beautiful or ugly, which appeals to him, however, he is good to ignore if it does not benefit him. He just thinks that she has a beauty that can be considered very common and quite different from the sophisticated standard of beauty that frequents House Slytherin.

Granger was in an armchair, her legs were tucked aside, while she rested her chin against her fisted hand with her elbow resting on the armrest. A Muggle book was on her lap and she was concentrating on reading. Her hair was tied up in a side ponytail with a few loose strands. _Such uncontrollable hair,_ he thought.

Tom put the book he was reading aside and got up from the couch, putting his hands in his pants pocket.

"We need to go back to the Orphanage to get my things. We will be returning to Hogwarts soon." He spoke, his face expressionless.

Hermione paid attention to what he was saying. His tone of voice was demanded, a kind of order and his face was a stoic mask, without showing whether or not he had expectations. It was only then that Hermione understood a little more about him. He needs his bag for when he goes to Hogwarts, that bag is in the Orphanage - obviously - andy he _doesn't know how to Apparate._ That is, he needs her help. The way he spoke was nothing more than him trying to corner her in a way that he didn't need to ask for something. It's like he doesn't know how to ask or if he knows how to do it, it's not something he does with people who know what his real 'self' is like.

It definitely looks like a spoiled child, something very petulant indeed. The situation would be comical if it were not tragic. However, Hermione expects nothing less from him.

"Okay." She replies, watching his expression become serene.

She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, because it is never decisive when it comes to him. However, she considers them to be on "good terms". _No, no, good terms are too much._ Perhaps the right words are 'living together peacefully for now'. _This is more appropriate._

She doesn't know how far this peace between them will go and she is 100% sure that they will conflict again, she just hopes that this time of peace will be long enough for her and Harry to leave without causing much confusion. Hermione also asks herself several times whether young Riddle will meet Harry and, if so, how he will act. She already has a sense of how Harry will behave, but as Riddle, he can be a box of surprises - many of them are unpleasant. She also wonders if this possible encounter between the two will fuel the Young Dark Lord's obsession.

"I'll get ready so I can take you." She continued, walking past him and heading towards her room. Hermione saw the slight wrinkle on his forehead with her last words. He is certainly proud.

Tom waited very little for her, when she returned, she was wearing a khaki goddess skirt and white shirt with sleeves that ended at the wrist, her hair was loose and with a considerable patterned style in the only way she could, with a few strands to the right side is held by a hairpin.

"Should we go?" Granger asked, extending his hand to him.

He rolled his eyes and took her hand.

"Hold on tight," she ordered.

"More than that?" Tom frowned. He really wasn't holding her hand tightly, it felt weird to do something like that.

"You don't want to be apart from me while we're Apparating. I can say with one hundred percent certainty. "Hermione explained and felt his grip on her hand. "There!" She let her lips escape. "It is not to break my fingers."

"You are the one who said to hold on tight."

"You did it on purpose."

He shrugged and loosened his grip a little. They disapparated in that alley that was known to Hermione and familiar to Tom, for different reasons, they knew that place so close to the Wool Orphanage. Tom knew because he always lived there and Hermione ... well, Hermione knew because she came here a few times, all these times with a clear intention of destroying Tom Riddle also known as the Dark Lord, Voldemort. This young boy that she was willingly bringing to pick up his things at the Orphanage. **_Holy irony_ ** _._

When Tom felt that his feet were on the ground and the magic leaving him, he exhaled. Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye, watching what she considered an almost genuine smile from him. That almost smile was so little and almost nonexistent, that if she hadn't put together the puzzle that was his expression, she could have sworn that smile was never there. The pupils a little dilated, the eyebrows a little raised, the breathing a little fast and heavy and that strange flush on Tom Riddle's pale face. _Adrenaline._ He liked the feeling of adrenaline.

It was the first time Tom had Apparated, she mean - the first time he had Apparated _consciously._ He still didn't know how to do such magic by himself and if he had any idea how to do it - which she is sure he does - Tom was hesitant to practice. He didn't want to risk a splinching- something that Hermione very much doubts would happen to him. Let's face it, everyone knows that he was good at doing any spell and she is sure that in the first Apparition class, he will get his License.

She was caught looking at him and he looked back, looking at her curiously.

"Shall we go?" He asked, removing the grip he had on her hand. Hermione nodded and followed the path beside him.

When they arrived at the Orphanage, Tom opened the iron gate and gestured for her to pass first. She didn't know if it was an act because they were in public or if he was really kind and that could be a cruel question. Then, he did the same thing with the big heavy wooden door, gesturing for her to walk ahead.

Hermione's shoes made a noise as she stepped on the wooden floor and looked around curiously, trying to find similarities with the Orphanage of her time. Although it was clean, this was a dark and depressing place. It had dark colored furniture and was not very cheerful, it didn't look like a place for children. Even the lamps didn't seem to light enough. It was a sad place, was in the aurea of this Orphanage. Hermione did not imagine that places like an orphanage would be happy, only the name already incubated empathy and even pity in a person, places like that always have histories, but at Wool it was different. Very different.

She stopped and looked back, seeing Riddle standing at the door with his hands in his pocket, looking around like her. Hermione noticed the slight wrinkling of his nose, it was disgust and contempt in his expression. _He hates this place_ , she realized. _And he is probably right_.

He walked over to her with a serious, hard expression. Mrs. Cole was coming from the main hall, her shoes making a constant noise, something that sounded like ' _tack, tack, tack, tack'._ She was wearing a burgundy dress that went a little below the knees and with long sleeves. There was a gold brooch pinned to the silk ruffled collar of her dress. The pale blond hair was tied in a perfect bun style of the time.

Hermione improved her posture and looked at Mrs. Cole calmly when she finally stopped in front of them.

"Riddle." Her voice was stern when she addressed Tom and Hermione swallowed, remaining still. "Where have you been all these days?" She continued.

"You gave me permission to spend the vacation with my schoolmate." Tom replied calmly, this time gesturing to Hermione, as if introducing her.

It was the first time that Mrs. Cole looked at Hermione, frowning.

"Don't you remember?" Tom spoke, approaching Mrs. Cole. Hermione felt the environment around her cool with magic that didn't come from her. She looked at Tom, who approached Mrs. Cole, looking intently at her. "Allow me to make you remember."

Mrs. Cole was caught in Tom Riddle's gaze like a deer blinded by light, her eyes widening, her eyebrows fluttering as she tried futilely to fight mental invasion and her mouth hanging down a little. Hermione tried to understand what he was doing.

 _Legilimens?_ Was he reading her mind and infiltrating false memories? _Confundus?_ Was he creating confusion in her mind?

Or was it a strange mixture of the two spells?

"You remember." Tom said in a tone of voice that it was not a question, it was a statement.

"Of course, Riddle. I remember." She smiled. Mrs. Cole's expression softened in strange happiness and calm.

"Great." Tom Riddle smiled with satisfaction. "Now walk back to the office and stay there." He gestured like a nobleman, shooing Mrs. Cole away as if she were a chicken and she obeyed.

That was _Imperius ..._ The realization shocked Hermione and she looked at him in astonishment. He had just done the curse _Imperius_ without a wand in front of her and without any effort.

When Tom looked back at her, he smiled arrogantly and purposefully slowly, made the sign of silence to her. This was another little secret between them. The first of many.

Tom approached Hermione, she took his arm, looking alarmed.

"Did you just put her under a curse?" Hermione whispered, scolding him.

He looked at the hand holding his arm and raised an eyebrow suggestively at her, when Hermione noticed, she quickly removed her hand. Tom sighed and with an index finger, undid the light wrinkle on her forehead, forcing Hermione's expression to relax.

"Keep calm." He rolled his eyes. "At least she'll be happy for the rest of the day or until I decide to end the spell. Telling her to stay in the office is better than doing what I always wanted to do with her and Mr. Wool. Trust me." He advised her.

Hermione retracts when she hears his words, they are a warning, an advice. He could do something worse and she understood it so much that it filled her with fear. Reluctantly, she agreed.

"Very well." Hermione took a deep breath, trying to control her tone. She needs to look like she still has control of the situation. Tom nodded.

"Let's go." Tom nodded for Hermione to follow him upstairs.

"She can't go up to the boys' dorm, Riddle. Rules."

The boy's voice caught Hermione and Tom's attention. Tom's expression darkened when he took his gaze to the boy leaning against the hall wall. Hermione looked closely at the boy.

He had dark blond hair, pale blue eyes, with a lot of freckles on his 'potato' nose and cheeks, he was Riddle's height, with broad shoulders and could be considered muscular for his age. He wore a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow and pants with suspenders.

That was Billy Stubbs.

"Don't get involved." Riddle almost growled.

"Billy, what's going on?" The girl who was accompanying Billy asked. Her curly hair was tied by a ribbon, the girl's brown eyes looked at Tom, before she looked down quickly.

"The girl with Riddle is a weirdo just like him. She attends the same school. "

Amy Benson looked at Hermione and wrinkled her forehead. Hermione watched Riddle's hand fist clench.

"We are not weird." Tom snarled at Billy.

"Ah, yeah, what is the term that Mrs. Cole uses? A school for the 'gifted'. Hm ... I know ... It's just a fancy word to say that you are mad." Billy laughed.

This time it was Hermione who spoke, irritated by Billy Stubbs' offense. As a child, Hermione was already called similar things.

"Forgive us if you don't have the necessary skills to attend the same school as us."

Billy narrowed his eyes in anger at Hermione. Tom stepped forward and Billy retracted. Whatever expression Billy saw in Tom, it stopped him. He went pale with fear. Amy held Billy's suspenders, also in fear.

"Come on, Billy." She murmured to him. He locked his jaw, looking scared and angry, but unable to face Tom. He just nodded to Amy and they both passed Tom and Hermione.

"Aberration." He murmured very quietly as he passed Tom, who followed him with an cold gaze.

Tom and Hermione stood in the hall of the orphanage in silence. Tom was the first to move, he stopped momentarily, looking at Hermione over his shoulder.

"What are you waiting for?" He asked.

Great, he was already pissed. There is nothing better than the angry Young Dark Lord. Hermione wondered if it really was a good idea to bring Tom here. She followed him, gathering all the patience she could, because apparently this place managed to expose the worst of Tom Riddle's personality.

They were walking down the hall to the dorms, when in the distance Hermione saw a woman cradling something in her arms. A small unmistakable noise came from the pile of fabrics. It was a baby. The woman was lulling a baby, absently singing to him. As soon as she saw Tom and Hermione, she got scared and brought the baby against her chest, hugging him protectively.

Martha was frightened by Tom Riddle's presence. She was a nurse at the Orphanage, she helped deliver the boy she now feared and remembers to this day how he was a baby and a strange child. He never cried, not even when he came into the world. He never got sick, not even when everyone had chicken pox . She doesn't remember seeing Riddle have a cold.

"R-Riddle." She spoke, her voice breaking for a moment.

Tom passed without even trying to recognize her, but Hermione stopped for a moment, looking at the newborn baby in the woman's arms.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, looking at the baby with a skin tone very similar to the color of caramel, with pink cheeks and a small heart-shaped mouth. Hermione's expression soon softened.

The woman, Martha, looked at Hermione for a moment, not recognizing her from anywhere.

"He was abandoned at our door two days ago." Martha explained. "Poor thing, he was very hungry."

"Does he have a name?" Hermione asked, gently touching the baby's small tuft of curly hair.

"They haven't given him a name yet. But I call him George. "

It was at that moment that Tom came into Martha's field of vision again, she fought the urge to protect the baby, she did not trust that boy and thought that Riddle's punishment was valid. How much contradiction in one person.

However, Riddle made no move to approach her or the baby, he was just curious about the child's appearance. Hermione watched Tom's expression with interest, but he looked stoic and just raised an eyebrow at the baby in Martha's arms.

"Come on, Granger." He called her and turned to the 27th dorm again. Hermione looked at the child once more before following Tom.

Martha wanted to get Riddle's attention about having a girl in his dorm, however, she fell silent and was content with the distance between her and him. That boy could give her the creeps if he wanted to.

Tom made no chivalry ceremony for Hermione when he entered his room. Hermione gathered her hands against her chest, looking around and shivering with cold. How was it possible that in the middle of the summer, the room could be so cold?

The room, like the whole Orphanage, did not convey any joy. Gray-painted walls, an iron bed, a wooden wardrobe and a small table with a chair. That was all that Tom Riddle had and that still didn't belong to him. There was a lonely window that overlooked the street, the only distraction for an extremely intelligent and skilled child. That was a part of the boy's childhood that was in front of her.

Hermione sat up, the spring of the bed creaked under her weight, as if it was already very worn. She was silent, watching Tom open the wardrobe to grab the trunk.

"Don't worry about the baby, Granger." Tom said. "He is going to be adopted. Babies are always adopted. "

Whether he was trying to reassure her or mock the situation, she couldn't say.

"You were not adopted." She stated.

Tom stopped the second he heard Granger's words. The room was quiet, the Orphanage looked dead, the only thing that seemed to move was the dust particles through the light coming from the window. Hermione wished to take her words back at once. You didn't have to be smart to understand that she _'threw shit at the fan'._ The suspense in the room got worse when she noticed Tom locking his jaw. The only sound in the room was the sound of the fabric of his clothing as he moved slowly. He snorted in disbelief and looked at her.

"No, I was not adopted." Tom confirmed.

Hermione didn't know if it was safe to look at him, but the sound of his shoes as he walked towards her, aroused her curiosity and she was unable to avoid looking at him. Her eyebrows fluttered, trying to form an expression.

"I am the _antichrist_ , according to , remember?" He laughed grudgingly, making her remember the words the lame old man said to Tom as he whipped him.

"Are you trying to tell me that he prevented you from being adopted?" Hermione asked, trying to digest the information.

" _I'm saving families,_ that's what I grew up listening to." He shrugged, indifferent.

Hermione looked down in a thoughtful and emotional way. Is the whole future obscure because Tom Riddle was never adopted? All because of a man who didn't understand the differences? Because was Tom denied the chance to know what a family is? Are these the factors that contributed to the formation of the Dark Lord? Muggle hatred?

"I-I ... I'm sorry." Hermione said in a choked voice.

It seemed to be the wrong words. Tom's expression darkened, his mouth turned into a line, while he locked his jaw and looked angrily.

"I don't want your pity."

"I ... I ..." She didn't know what to say. Hermione stood up, undecided.

" Get out." He ordered. "I changed my mind. Go away."

She retracted, looked at him for a second and turned away, leaving room 27, leaving Tom Riddle alone in his room at the orphanage. Tom heard the sound of her shoes as she left. He rested his hands on the small wooden table and looked out the window at the busy street.

"Shit." Tom exhaled and turned sharply, taking the trunk from the closet and going after Hermione.

Hermione stopped in the entrance hall, taking a deep breath, looking up the stairs.

"Are you okay, miss?"

Hermione started in surprise when she heard the male voice, a boy was coming to her aid.

"I'm Eric Whalley, miss." He held out his hand to her. "Nice to meet you."

"Hermione. Hermione Granger." She shook his hand in greeting.

Eric Whalley had brown hair hidden by the male beret he wore. The white dress shirt and gray trousers with suspenders appeared to be the men's uniform for the young boys at the Orphanage.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, but aren't you too young to adopt a child?" He asked. Hermione paused for a moment, confused by his question, but understanding soon came to her.

"Oh, no, no, no. I'm not here to adopt ..." She raised both hands in a negative gesture. "I'm here ..."

"She's with me, Whalley." Tom Riddle's voice overlapped Hermione Granger's. He was walking down the stairs calmly, holding the trunk with one hand, as if he hadn't run. He would never tell her that he ran to go with her.

Eric took a step back and swallowed.

"You changed your mind very quickly." Hermione murmured when Riddle was close to her.

"We talk about this later." He explained to her.

"Is that true, miss?" Whalley asked. Although he was afraid of Riddle, Whalley was cordial and could never leave a lady he thinks is helpless.

Tom narrowed his eyes at Eric's insinuation,. Irritated, Tom addressed Hermione.

"Let's go, Granger. He's not like us. "

Hermione was about to refute when more people came and stood behind Eric Whalley. Amy Benson, Billy Stubbs, a few other orphans and even Martha. Amy Benson whispered something in Eric's ear, which brought an accomplishment to him that was transmitted in his eyes.

The gaze of each of these people was the same, it was strange. It was like being judged. They were curious looks and yet they conveyed a kind of fear and disgust, a strange kind of discrimination.

Tom took Hermione's arm and shot everyone a look of anger and contempt.

 _They are not like me. They are not like us._

With that thought he took Hermione outside, holding his trunk with the other hand.

 **o0o**

* * *

"Well, can you tell me what was that about?" Hermione questioned him, crossing her arms under her breasts.

They were sharing a table near the window, away from the other tables, in a sort of cafeteria.

"Muggles are strangers." He shrugged, gesturing for her to give him the newspaper that had on the first page: **_Soviet forces conquer Kursk_ **. He didn't want to talk about what happened at the Orphanage, dealing with it as if it were nothing. Deliberately ignoring Granger's questions.

"I am not talking about them, although we will talk about them at a time that I consider to be very close, I am talking about **you**."

It is at that moment that they are served with tea, cookies and bread rolls, something that was considered a luxury, due to the rationing of food, but mainly because in the eyes of others, they were a young couple who could afford that expense.

Tom smiles at the waitress who deliberately takes time to serve just so she can admire him timidly. When she walks away, she is so dazzled by his smile that the poor thing she didn't see that as soon as she walked away, Tom rolled his eyes and his expression became serious.

He pretends to be reading the newspaper just to ignore Hermione. She narrows her eyes at him.

"Hello! I'm talking to you."

Tom exhaled, lowering the newspaper and placing it on the table. He stopped for a moment and then looked at her.

"I hate that look of pity you gave me. You told me that compassion and pity are different things and I tell you that if you give me that look of pity again, I'm going to shove that newspaper down your throat. "

Hermione looked at him indignantly. _See? This is what happens when you help the Dark discover what his personality is like and as soon as he knows that you know, he puts his wings out. Great._

She knew that he was not really threatening her ,because she already knows what it's like to be threatened by him and is sure that is not a threat. He is just irritated, exasperated by the situation. However, she reproaches his action by slapping the table.

Taking a deep breath, she says:

"Okay, I understand. I just thought it was wrong that he deprived you of being adopted. "

"Get over it." He said, picking up the newspaper again. Tom didn't want to care, he preferred not to think about these things too much.

"Weren't you angry?" She asked quietly. It was an extremely stupid question, because who wouldn't be angry with a situation like this.

Tom looked up at her. He didn't understand what she was getting at and what she wanted him to admit. He could not see what she or he would gain from talking about his past, he is only sure that he will not tell everything, he doesn't know how reliable she is and what she will do with the information she receives. But the truth is that he doesn't mind giving her that information, because he no longer considers it to be valuable and it's not like he matters anymore.

"At first, when I started to understand, yes, I was angry, but now ..." He shrugged, reading the newspaper again. "Don't you realize that an Orphanage is like going to a pet store? Just a sign saying 'for sale' is missing. I stopped caring and you should do the same thing. "

His words, the tone of his voice, the way he behaved, everything was cold and insensitive. There was no trace of regret, nothing that Hermione knew as a feeling of sadness. He was detached, Tom Riddle didn't really care anymore about not being adopted.

"It is almost a rule in an Orphanage: Babies are always adopted. As you get older, the chances are less. When the twelve-year mark is reached, the chances are over. " He explained, still reading the newspaper, talking to her as if they were talking about the weather. "Honestly, I'm sorry for the adoptees. They barely know what to expect when _Mommy—"_ He scoffed. "Has a biological child."

"Besides, Granger, we are not like them. They look at us as if we were freaks _, aberration - "_ Tom continued, remembering the words Billy Stubbs used, laughing without joy. "But the truth is that we are the best. Muggles are nothing. "

"This is not true." She contradicts him. There was hatred for Muggles. Hermione wondered how long it would take him to show his disgust for Muggles. Unfortunately it didn't take long.

"It is obvious that it is." He looked at her like she was crazy. "Granger, we are better than them. The things that we are able to do are incomparable. They are bad and the fact that we have to hide our existence from them makes me extremely angry. "

"There are good and bad people on both sides, Tom."

"You have got to be kidding." Tom rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're a muggle lover, Granger?" He looked her up and down.

"We are not going to argue about that. I'm sure we have different opinions."

She didn't want to talk about bloodlines, Muggles and Muggle-borns with Tom Riddle. Not with him. That opened the door to a very dangerous debate, and judging by his gaze, she could see the gears in his brain working, which is not a good thing. On the way back to the known alley, they walked side by side. Tom Riddle did not make any aggressive moves or questions before she ended the debate abruptly, in fact, both preferred to walk in comfortable silence, entertained with their own thoughts. Of course, Hermione knows that now Tom Riddle is thinking and analyzing everything she said, the danger of the situation is there. However, he had a calm and serious expression, looking ahead, beside her, closer than she ever thought he would be. It was as if he was escorting her, marking territory, the strange part of the masculine behavior of the forties.

Something caught Hermione's attention, causing her to stop and Tom stopped at once. She was looking across the street, with a thoughtful look and a small frown of concern between her eyebrows. Tom followed her gaze and raised an eyebrow.

"I would like to change this whole situation." She murmured, looking at a mother with three children lying on a London sidewalk.

The mother who was holding a baby in her arms was in the mood to cry when she saw her two other children complaining about being hungry. A mother's desperation, Hermione supposed, is not being able to feed her children.

It was strange how many other people passed by and had the capacity to ignore. Hermione looked at the bag she was holding, it was what was left of what she and Tom ate.

 _Should I intervene?_ She wondered. It didn't seem right to do nothing, yet, Hermione knew she shouldn't have had any attitudes in the past. Doing nothing, being impartial, was so difficult, it was not human. And against everything she knew, against all advice, there was that impulse that told her it was right.

"Do you mind?" She asked Tom, showing him the cafeteria bag.

Tom shrugged, watching as she took a deep breath and crossed the street. If this was her act to have a peaceful night with her head on the pillow, he wouldn't stop her. At first, Tom thought that kindness,compassion, pity - whatever you want to call it - was extended to him out of interest. That she hides something? This he is sure of. That she acts differently? No. She was the same as before, in that way sometimes rough, sometimes kind, intelligent and too emotional.

He didn't quite understand why she did that, it's not like she was going to feed everyone in poverty. She would give this family something, but there would be others in worse shape. That is the world, it is not easy, just or gentle. However, one day, he will have control of everything, so he will be the order and the law. The judge and the executioner.

It was the sunny afternoon of the next day, Tom Riddle had already settled in and was treating the tent as if it were his home, which surprised Hermione. He actually let all the masks go, or so it seemed.

Nix made a noise when he entered the tent, carrying a letter stuck in his beak.

Tom watched with interest when Hermione took the letter, Nix flew towards him, waiting for some snack for the good work. Tom tried to calm the owl on the perch by smoothing his feathers. Incredibly, Tom got along better with animals than with humans.

When Hermione saw whose letter it was, she glanced over her shoulder at Riddle, noting how her owl seemed to get along so well with him in such a short time. She felt a little jealous, but her concern was greater. Opening the letter quickly, Hermione read the words that buried her hope once again. Her friend was still not good and was saying nonsense.

She wondered again how much this affected Harry Potter.

Hermione looked again at Tom Riddle who was unchanged in the face of everything, she left the letter in her hand catch fire through magic and burn to ashes, while that strange feeling of bitterness pulled away, needing to stay away from him.

What did not go unnoticed by Tom.

 _Whatever she read in the letter, it stirred her emotions._ He thought, watching her go out of the tent. Tom put Nix in the cage and closed it, then walked over to find Hermione on the beach.

She was sitting on a rock, hugging her legs, while the waves calmly licked part of the sand. Her hair flew against the breeze as if it had a life of its own, she looked at the sea with longing and devotion and Tom wondered who was the person who could give her that kind of look.

He walked over to her, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. When he approached her, he noticed her embracing her legs tighter.

"What upset you?" He asked, sitting next to her.

Tom heard a small snort coming from her and she shook her head, as if she found something funny in his question.

She lifted her face slightly, her brown eyes very much like mahogany, looking under her long gaze hit him and Tom found himself swallowing heavily, as if to dissipate a lump in his throat.

"Nothing to worry about." She answered.

Tom looked down, looking at her hands.

"You know and ask about my past. I don't think it's fair. " He looked at her face again, raising an eyebrow.

"A friend." Hermione spoke in a strong voice. "It's at 's. The news was not promising. "

Understanding showed on Riddle's face. _Too emotional_ , he thought. Or maybe it was he who was very unemotional, or else, no one managed to activate that side of him. _Thanks to Merlin_ , he thanked.

He looked around, not knowing what to say.

"I want to ask you something." Tom took her hand, he heard the air leave her lips in surprise, it was her right hand, the one holding the wand. She never walked without her wand. Hermione watched with curiosity as he traced her hand, there was no strength or brutality, only softness, but she ingested the air a little distressed by the situation when he touched the wood of the wand. The same curiosity that was in her eyes reflected in Tom Riddle's eyes. Admiring the wand with almost childlike interest, Tom asked:

"What was that? What happened in the Room of Requirement? " He looked at her, his hand still in hers and her wand.

The questions, the curiosity, she knew they were going to come. Hermione thinks it took too long, but maybe he was testing the waters with her, to see how far he could go. It is not surprising, however, that he remembers everything and every detail; Riddle is like that, she supposed.

She then wonders what she can say that doesn't provide him with valuable information and what he doesn't already know. _Was it safe?_ She wondered.

"Priori Incantatem." Hermione murmured to him.

Tom stopped for a moment, looked at her and then at her wand.

"Sister wands." He concluded. He had read about it when he was a newbie at Hogwarts, he learn about wands and about the school, trying to gather as much information as he could not to be a layman, yet it was never enough.

He traced the wand's wood with his fingers, ignoring Hermione's tight grip, she was still afraid to let the wand go and he admired her for being so smart. The wand, even with Hermione, reacted to Riddle, perhaps because of Riddle's wand that was the sister. Tom then remembered the incredible connection between the two in the Room of Requirement.

 _Yes, a connection_. He looked at Hermione again. One more thing that made her connected to him.

"Is that why you didn't want to duel?" He asked and she snorted.

"Yes. Among other reasons as well. " Hermione scolded him with a look. "You wanted to harm me."

"Is it possible to duel?" Tom asked, ignoring Hermione's last sentence. He's not thinking of dueling with her, it's just a curiosity, a possibility that he wants to be prepared for.

"I believe so, but if both spells are cast at the same time -"

"The connection occurs." He finished the sentence for her. "How do you know about the Room of Requirement?"

He sees the hesitation in her, she licks her lips and looks down. He's still holding her hand.

"I read in a book about Hogwarts and some of the mysteries in the castle. Given what happened, I just concluded that that was the Room of Requirement. " She lied. "And how did you find out?" She asked.

Tom looked out to sea, the sun is starting to set between the clouds and the sea, and the sky has become a strange mixture of colors like orange, red and purple.

"In a book too. A book that talks about the castle. " He answered in his mysterious voice.

This book he was referring to was inside the Chamber of Secrets, created by Salazar Slytherin himself, one of the founders of Hogwarts, explaining the entire construction of the castle.

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds, seeing Riddle's profile and how his hair flew against the wind and returned to the same perfect position. They fell in silence, watching the sunset, listening to the sound of the waves and smelling the sea air. Riddle was still moving his fingers against Hermione's skin, it didn't look like he was aware of what he was doing. However, when he moved to her left hand, going up the wrist, he stopped. Tom blinked a few times trying to focus, he looked down at her wrist, his thumb gently pressing the delicate flesh. He turns her arm over and over again, and Hermione tries to understand what he is doing with curious expectation. Tom stops again, exposing her wrist to him, his index finger traces all the way to the fold of her arm, this is where Hermione knows.

"I feel magic here. It's a charm to hide something. " He says, frowning.

Hermione swallowed and she put her hand with her wand over her arm to hide from Riddle's view. Tom looked at her, watching as she bites her bottom lip and pulls her arm towards her body.

"What's it?" He asked.

He notices her looking to the right side, then to the left side, running her tongue over her lips. _Undecided and stressful behavior_ , he deduces.

"A scar." She whispered almost inaudibly. Tom narrows his eyes at her when he catches her looking at his ring. "I… .I need to think, excuse me." Hermione gets up from the rock where she was sitting and walks away from him, walking along the beach, lost in her own thoughts.

He watches her from afar, watching her walk on the beach in her sundress, her hair loose and unruly against the breeze. Tom looks at the iron cord around her neck and asks himself a question.

Unconsciously he plays with the ring on his middle finger, while still looking at her. _It's possible?_ He wonders, thinking about the protective behavior that Hermione has with that necklace that he never had a chance to see completely.

 _No, of course not._ He denies it to himself. _Granger doesn't seem like the type of person who would do such a thing._ Tom looks at the ring that doesn't shine in the light. _Or am I mistaken?_ He turns his head in the direction she's gone.

It is dawn and Riddle was in his dreamless sleep, resting in what was his room now, after a silent dinner between him and Granger. Both retired early to their proper rooms after doing the night routine.

He's snoring softly in the darkness of his room when a scream echoes. At first he doesn't move, he just grumbles as he turns to the other side of the bed, but when more screams of terror echo, Riddle wakes up instantly. He listens carefully and turns to the other side again, willing to ignore, but she screams and cries. Tom lifts his chest from the bed, looking around, listening to the screams that came from Granger's room. Throwing the blankets away, he gets up, opening the door quickly and walking with heavy steps to her room, ready to act if necessary.

He has his hand on the doorknob when he pauses for a moment, not knowing how she is dressed inside the room, but when he hears her moan 'no' in whimpering, he opens the door.

Tom swallows his breath when he sees her like that. She has her lower body hidden by the covers, her hair is loose and spread over the pillow, some strands of her hair are stuck to her forehead, a drop of sweat runs down her forehead, down her cheek, going towards the chin, her eyebrows flutter and he thinks she can cry in her sleep, her breathing is fast, giving him the view of her chest rising and falling.

Riddle's eyes appear to glow green in the partial darkness of the room; he walks slowly and silently to the edge of the bed, looking at her from above. There is a crease between his eyebrows when he frowned.

His gaze takes a long way over her body structure, passing over her face, stopping on her lips for a moment, then on her chin to her slender neck, where he perceives the main vein; the jugular, descending into the small space between her collarbones, to where her breasts are hidden by the strange shirt she wears. The necklace, which he is so curious to know, is hidden in the valley between her breasts, under her shirt. Her skin is flushed and with little beads of sweat. Unconsciously he licks his lips and fists his hands, it was his body trying to control his impulses. He takes a deep breath and seems to get dizzy when he smells her fragrance.

Tom looks again at the iron cord, the desire to touch and pull the necklace from valley hidden by her shirt is great, but there is something that goes beyond that. It is the strange feeling at the base of his stomach, a kind of tug, spasm or as if there are birds flying in there. His blood is running in all directions, but the one he can feel most is there and in his ears.

However, the cry from her, makes him wake up and shudder with his ears aching. He locks his jaw, shakes his head to concentrate.

"Granger." He moves her shoulder, trying to get her to wake up. "Granger." Tom calls her again, but it is only the third time that she wakes up.

Hermione raises her chest, breathing quickly, she blinks a few times and puts her hand against her forehead, trying to calm herself. She looks to the side, finding Riddle standing.

"Riddle?" She murmurs in a broken voice. He's wearing a set of gray pajamas, the top four buttons on his shirt are undone, giving her a partial view of his collarbone and chest.

"You were screaming like a pig being taken for slaughter." He says, confirming to Hermione that she was having a nightmare. A nightmare that left her shaken, after all, dreaming about Bellatrix Lestrange and the torture she suffered, always makes Hermione look like this. She thinks it was worse this time because she quoted the Dark Lord himself about her scar.

"Sorry." She murmured, resting both hands on the bed.

"Hm." Riddle shifted his weight to the other leg. Hermione moved restlessly, stroking her wrist. "It's about the scar." Tom doesn't ask, he just knows what her nightmare is about, she demonstrates in her behavior.

Hermione watches him sit on the bed next to her and then lie down, looking up at the starry ceiling created by magic in a spell that was very similar to Hogwarts. Not knowing what to do, Hermione looks at him for a few seconds, before finally lying in bed again. Riddle has the decency to lie on top of the blankets.

"Can I see?" He asks, of course he is referring to a scar.

"No." She replies and swears she can hear a small laugh coming from him, she is probably wondering too much.

A few more seconds pass, both of them were silent watching the magical starry sky that Hermione created, until he asked again:

"Was it an accident?"

"No." Hermione replied. "It wasn't an accident."

"Hm." Tom murmured. "You were tortured."

Hermione's silence was all the confirmation he needed, now the puzzle pieces were starting to make sense to him.

"Was it a muggle?" He asked.

"No."

"Oh, a wizard."

"A witch." She corrected him.

 _How strange and ironic,_ he thought. While he had been tortured by Muggles, she had been tortured by Wizards.

"Was it in the war?" He continued, looking at the sky that was now showing the constellation Ophiuchus - or in other words: Serpentarium.

"Yes." She murmured in a distant voice.

"Is the witch alive?"

"Yes."

"Hm." He exhaled, waited a moment and asked again. "Would you take revenge on her? Would you kill her if you had the chance? "

Tom waited for her answer, at first all he received was silence. He even thought she was back to sleep, but then she replied,

"Yes."

He thought for a few seconds about her answer.

"Good."

 **o0o**

"I can't believe we're almost late to catch the Train." Hermione grunted, being followed by Riddle, as she walked to choose one of the Hogwarts Express cabins.

"You were the one who was late with your things, remember?"

She didn't even realize that all this moment he was guiding her, even though she was walking ahead.

"Ah, yeah, is it my fault now?"

"Whatever, Granger." He didn't want to argue with her. "It's that cabin."

She rolled her eyes at his behavior, pulled the cabin door aside, when she looked inside, she gasped at her breath and opened her eyes wide. It was only a matter of hundredths for her to turn around, however she collided with Riddle, who was at all times behind her.

"Have you gone crazy?" She whispered to him.

"Get in the cabin, Granger." He ordered, a side smile appearing on his expression.

Stiffly and slowly, Hermione turned to face the cabin. It lay inside: Black, Lestrange, Malfoy, Mulciber, Rosier and Avery. Everyone was looking at her.

She had just entered the cabin from hell.

* * *

 **-Dispholidus typus also known as Boomslang, the eleventh most poisonous snake in the world.**

 **Author's note: Well, I wasn't entirely happy with this chapter, I don't know why, but I hope you like it. Tell me what you think.**


	13. Capítulo 12 Bothriechis

**My special thanks to** ALIASTESIN, Infernalbooks,Cassie-011, CCBPotter, Black Banshee, AvalonTheLadyKiller, Yasmina,Nicole1024, Relent1ess, ns2095, S-A-16, JSparkles444,Purplemoon02 , **Thank you for taking time to comment. I am extremely grateful. Thank you also for your interaction " the reader / writer" with me, it is very good to read a message like this.**

 ** ** ** **I am also happy for all the compliments and for always giving me suport to each chapter, sometimes it is not easy, but every time I read a comment like yours or a simple "continue" it is certainly better than being left in the void. So, I really appreciate your consideration.********

 **-Thanks** **for 126 review, 293 Followers and 168 Favorites. I'm so happy!**

 **-English is not my mother tongue, so I hope you understand if I have any errors in the text. Let me know so I can correct it**

* * *

 _Chapter 12. Bothriechis _ **_-_ ** _ An agreement with the Devil. _

Hermione looked at him for a long time, her breath coming out of her mouth a little faster than normal, his expression declaring that they would not argue about this. She was going to stay in that cabin.

Feeling the looks on her back, she takes one or two deep breath and straightens her posture, lifting her chin a little and swallowing hard. Hermione turns around slowly, looking at the members inside the cabin. On the right were Malfoy, Rosier and Lestrange, on the left were Alphard, Avery and Mulciber. There were two empty seats, both near the window, only on opposite sides. Either she sat on the M, R, L side or she sat on the A, M, A side and she didn't even have to think too much, she preferred to stay on the known side a thousand times, with Alphard. However, before she even moved towards Alphard's side, Riddle sat in the empty seat, leaving her to sit next to Malfoy, Rosier and Lestrange.

Hermione wonders again if her sins are too much that she would not only be trapped in this cabin, but she would also sit beside the most loyal and cruel Death Eaters.

She settles stiffly beside Malfoy, feeling him look at her out of the corner of his eye, but Hermione ignores, maintaining the posture of her body with her hands together in her lap. Her face is expressionless, as she looks at the culprit of her being in this situation. The cabin is as silent as a graveyard and the only one who seems to be enjoying is Riddle, although he does not have a smile on his face, she is already beginning to recognize the small twitch in the muscles around his eyes and the glow in those irises. The small lateral tilt of his head is an indication that he knows that she knows that he is enjoying. In any case, she prefers to lower her gaze for a moment, just to control her emotions, when she raised her head, Alphard is looking at her.

There is a clear question in his expression: _What the hell are you doing here?_ And the only way she can respond is with a shrug, keeping their conversation silent and hiding the strange rapport they had.

She lets her eyes roam around the cabin, there is a sociopath project sitting in front of her, a future manipulator beside her, a cruel boy sitting in the same direction, a sadist sitting at the end, a diabolical alchemist with no morals on the opposite side, a malicious boy and everything revolves around a question: _How did she come to sit next to them?_

This only adds to the personal terror she feels. All in all, they were teenage boys, young adults at most, yet they were able to do what even adults didn't dare to do. The thought froze her inside and Hermione knows that if there is a plan between them, if they act, she will have to fight right here. They were in greater numbers, it was five against one - she is excluding Alphard from her calculation, because she doesn't know how he will behave if something happens - and they were considered powerful, end with each of them would be hard work. But, she is sure of one thing: she will not fall without taking at least one of them.

That's when she looks at Riddle again, feeling betrayed, used. Was that his retribution? It's not like when she helped him, she was thinking of some sort of retribution or payment, but after all, she figured he would at least be happy to make his intentions clear, that at least he would say ' I still want to kill you 'and that would make it all clear to her. _He can still be a box of negligible surprises._

The Hogwarts Express makes the first move, catching Hermione off guard, due to the movement of the train, Hermione has her body being thrown forward and she is forced to rest one hand on one of Riddle's knees so that she can steady herself.

It was a quick moment for the others, but for the two involved, time passed a little more slowly when their eyes met. Hermione recoiled as if Riddle's body was on fire, quickly putting herself in the correct, rigid position. Her mind started to think of escape plans, she looked out the window, watching as the landscape moved quickly because of the train. She wondered what the chances of survival were if she preferred to jump off the moving train. She could always use magic to help.

If nothing happened, then it would be a long and stressful trip to Hogwarts.

At first, Riddle found the awkward silence amusing, the exchanging looks asking what he was up to, the fear and submission of everyone inside. But then she leans on one of his knees to try to steady herself, looking at him, and in those brown eyes, he sees fear, dread, betrayal, accusation everything directed to him. She retracts, looking at the landscape, the hands on her lap in the shape of a fist, he watches her move her fingers as if she misses taking the wand from her holster and holding it and she probably has a thought that she discards, because a small sound comes.

He prefers to ignore it, taking a book from his male cross bag. It was one of her books, which she didn't mind that he picked up to read. Riddle would not give in to her and would not explain to the Knights what he wanted, at least for now.

It was more than half the trip, the silence was harsh and unbearable, everyone seemed to be minding their own business. When he looks at her from under his lashes, he is surprised that she has maintained her posture until now. The Knights stopped talking since Granger arrived, they don't know how much they can talk or be themselves and mainly, they don't know the role that Granger has here, among them. They are too curious, they want to know if they can finally relax, but none of them dares to say anything so far.

It was at that moment that Lestrange made a sound with his throat.

"Riddle ...? ' There is a secret question in Lestrange's tone of voice, Riddle exchanges a look with him and Hermione wonders what is going on, if this is when things will start to get worse, however, against everything she thinks, Tom replies:

"She is with us."

The Knights of Walpurgis exchange glances, wrinkling their foreheads a little, wondering how Granger went from being an enemy to ' with us' and why Riddle and she arrived together. The need to feed the Knights' curiosity and animosity, Riddle know he will have to do, however, **how** , **when** and **if** he will explain, it is his decision. And one thing he doesn't accept is being questioned. But for now, this short statement seems to be enough. They exhale and automatically relax. Lestrange stretches his legs on the upholstery on the opposite side, Mulciber loosens his tie, Avery yawns as if bored, Alphard makes a movement with the neck

and Rosier with his fingers, Malfoy crosses his legs and talks to Mulciber about the summer vacation.

The amusement gave way to ignorance and then to the boredom, he did not want to be moved by Granger's behaviour, but if she gave him another cautious look, he knew he would care.

"For Merlin's sake, relax, Granger." Riddle practically screamed, demanding that she relax her posture and muscles.

She swallows, finding the inner fire to debate with him.

"You can't blame me. If I remember well, the last time I was with you, it was not pleasant. "

Riddle snorts and the small superior smile he gives, along with the sounds of laughter from others, show that at least they find what happened funny. Alphard silently watches the scene.

Annoyed, Hermione tries to kick Riddle's shin, an act that none of the future Death Eaters would think of doing. Alphard looked at Hermione as if a second head had grown or as if she was having a death wish. However, to everyone's surprise, Riddle dodges Hermione's foot, looking more amused than annoyed. Alphard couldn't say how Hermione was from the girl Riddle wanted to torture and kill for the girl who had the audacity to try to kick Tom Riddle. If this situation is not strange, he doesn't know what else it would be.

"How much negative emotion, Granger." There are fun, irony and arrogance in Riddle's tone of voice. "Look on the bright side. There is always a way to get something beneficial out of a bad situation. See where you are now. "

"I really don't know if I'm in a good position," Hermione responds with sincerity and a slight intonation of anger. "Your advice? Is it for you? "

He stops for a moment.

"Let's say I'm an expert at that." There is a slight inclination towards the upper corner of the right side of his lips, indicating that such an expression can be considered a smile. She doesn't doubt his statement for even a second, Riddle must surely be a master when it comes to getting the best out of the worst situations.

"Let's be realistic," Hermione says, leaning her upper body slightly towards him, in response to her approach, Riddle also leans in, anxious for the Gryffindor girl's smart thoughts. "S-Should I trust?"

Tom raises his eyebrows a little and looks her expression up and down out of the corner of his eyes. He thinks about her question for a moment, at most three seconds.

"Could I trust you that day and every other day?" He answers with a question, even if it was a trick question willing to catch a lie, there is truth there, in those words.

Even surrounded by his most loyal followers, there is no desire in Riddle to expose the details to them. What Granger saw, participated in and offered to him, belongs to him. There is a degree of intimacy with her that puts her on a different level than others, a different way of relating. For all intents and purposes, she saw more about his life than he ever allowed others to see, and even though the two hated each other in the beginning, he assumes they are fine now. However, she will also have to give a vote of confidence in him. He finds her fear interesting, even funny. As she is ready for anything, ready to put her claws out and fight if she feels threatened, but now, this is unnecessary behaviour. He has no intention of harming her. She will just have to believe this as he also believed that she would not harm him.

Riddle holds her gaze with his for a moment, before exhaling and putting himself in the ideal position again.

"Just relax, okay." He nods at her.

Hermione holds his gaze a little longer, before nodding and also correcting her posture. She makes a slight movement with her shoulders, forcing the trapezius muscle and all other muscles to relax. Against all rational instincts and facts, she trusts him for now. She wants to believe what he said here and in the tent and wants to believe that now she is out of the way of the future Death Eaters, because the only one who can keep them away is Riddle. It is Riddle who maintains the leash of the Death Eaters and, apparently, what he says is the law between them.

 _That's what it is for today,_ she thinks.

For Riddle, they have more similar situations than he likes to admit and for his realization, it doesn't bother him as much as he did at the beginning. After all, strangely they seem to have a complement, but as far as it goes, it has yet to be seen. Granger's behaviour is nothing more than her leaving her comfort zone. They _"played"_ when he was in her territory, now it was her turn to come and play in his.

Riddle picks up the book again and the others take it as a cue to return to acting normally. Hermione looks at the horizon through the window, watching the sun in the landscape before water droplets appear one by one until it starts to rain. She frowned a little, confused. _Summer rains._ More as the Express advances, the rain seems to intensify, the sun stopped shining, hidden by the thick rain-laden clouds that left the sky dark.

"It looks like the weather has changed." She heard Lestrange comment and looked in his direction.

Hermione exhaled and for her realization and everyone else, in her breaths the strange _smoke_ that indicated the change in temperature to colder occurred. Riddle stopped reading, raised his head in Hermione's direction and everyone looked at each other, stagnating in their seats when the temperature seemed to drop to 273.15 ° Kelvin ( 32° Fahrenheit ). Hermione shivered with cold and instinct, she looked at the window and watched in horror as the window began to have the freezing texture of frost. Riddle also looked on with fascination and suspicion, until from the bottom corner of the side where Hermione was, long, skeletal fingers moving appeared, the hand dragged itself across the surface of the window feeling the presence of those in that cabin. The humanoid creature covered in torn dark robes with a hood showed slowly, the noises it made - very similar as when a person is short of breath or who wants to suck more air than is able - could be heard through the window.

The cabin occupants were standing with their eyes fixed on that horror show, seeing that creature that could only have come from the most terrible of nightmares.

"Dementors ..." Hermione whispered. Dementors were not Hermione's dread, but it would be foolish to say that she would not fear to be near a Dementor.

The Dementor placed his mouth - which looked more like a small bottomless hole - against the window and as if in anger spread his skeletal hands on the window in a sudden, loud movement, which startled Hermione. She threw herself back against Malfoy, pushing him so she could get away from the window. Malfoy pushed Rosier who pushed Lestrange.

Riddle stood up and stared at the creature, dazzled as if it were a new scientific discovery for him. He had never seen a Dementor so close.

Hermione was about to pull the wand out of the holster and do the Patronum spell when the Express started moving again. The light inside the cabin came back, but it still didn't seem strong enough. She sighed and leaned her head against the seat, for all she knows this didn't seem like a good sign.

"Wow, did you see that?" Mulciber spoke, more excited than afraid. "It was a _fucking_ Dementor!"

"That was awesome!" Rosier agreed.

"You had to see your face." Avery pointed at Rosier, laughing. "It looked like you were going to pee your pants."

"Fuck, my dad said the Ministry was going to put the Dementors as guards at the Hogwarts and Hogsmeade perimeter after the attack happened, but ... shit, I never thought I'd see a Dementor." It was so much joy that it could be heard in Lestrange's voice that any Dementor would be pleased.

Hermione looks at them with shock and disbelief. _What's wrong with them?_ she wonders. She agrees, on a certain level, that seeing a Dementor is a vision of a life, it is certainly incredible for anyone, but their reactions were not normal.

Riddle interprets Hermione's shocked expression by the verbiage that the other cabin occupants use. Somehow, despite everything he knows about her, he considers her a 'lady' to maintain appearances of politeness and sophistication.

"We have a lady in our company, boys." He nods towards Hermione, a clear order that they must compose themselves.

"Our apologies, Miss Granger," Mulciber says. "Forgive us for our inappropriate behaviour."

Hermione lets out a small, low sound of disbelief that only she could hear. She doesn't believe that. She doesn't care about the words they choose to express themselves, but about how easy they obey Riddle. It was clear that they were much more afraid of his reaction than anything else.

Alphard is silent, feeling Riddle settle down beside him and continue to read the book. He looks at Hermione, analyzing her expression, seeing how shaken she looks after the meeting with the Dementor. He doesn't know if it was really the Dementor who left her like this, but he can't help when he realizes that the window remains with the frost, meaning that someone in that environment still sad, which is why he gets up, picking up a small bag with treats he had bought. She looks at him, watching the movements he makes when he gestures for Malfoy to give him space to sit.

Alphard sits down, his face turned towards Hermione. He knows he's probably drawing attention to both of them.

"What are you doing?" She asks in a soft, low voice.

Touching the small bag of sweets and takes chocolate from there, he opens the chocolate bar and offers her a piece. She looks at him suspiciously but takes the chocolate.

"You probably know that, but Dementors feed on people's happiness," Alphard explains, fiddling with the chocolate packaging.

Hermione smiles, Alphard looks at the frost on the window, lessened but it was not enough.

"Endorphins." She says, with scientific knowledge superior to his.

"Yeah, something like that ." He smiled. "Here, choose one."

"Bertie Botts?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, looking at him and noticing a defiant expression on Alphard's face. She reached into the package and took out a red bean. _Usually red is a good thing._

Alphard also takes one, the beans are also red, perhaps more for the colour of wine.

She puts her bean in her mouth first, chewing as she imagines a worse taste and is surprised to find the taste of cinnamon. Soon after Alphard puts in his mouth, he chews more confidently.

"Shit." He murmured, wincing at the taste of the worm, shivering with disgust.

Hermione laughs. The laughter is shy, cheerful and inviting. The frost on the window thaws and the light in the cabin seems stronger. The expression on Hermione's face is brilliant and she looks at him with a sparkle in her eyes that looks like happiness, but for some reason, he thinks there's more there as if she's seeing someone else instead of him. Especially when she, still with a smile - this time more restrained - looks at him, taking all the details that she can see and suddenly there is a small crease between her eyebrows. She tilts her head to the right side and brings her face and hand a little closer, with her fingers, she puts the strands of his hair behind his ear, her touch goes down behind his ear to the earring he's wearing on his left ear.

Alphard feels his face heat up with her approach, which is unusual for him. The bold behaviour gave him enough charisma to make people blush, but with him, it rarely happened.

Hermione runs her fingers over the earring. It is an earring dangling with the shape of a small prickly ball that looked like a sea urchin. She raises her eyebrow and he sees the small twitch in the left corner of her mouth - a small smile - and shakes her head in a very maternal way like a mother watching her son play.

A kind of look he never saw in the eyes of his mother, Irma Black neé Crabbe. At best she is cold, at worst she is the complete winter and to his displeasure, his sister Walburga 'Wally' is too similar to her.

He looks at Hermione and sees her sighing, she crosses her arms under her breasts and leans her head against the window and he understands that she needs personal space, he gets up and when he turns around, he finds Riddle looking at him intensely. Alphard swallows his saliva in a ' _glup'_.

The intensity of the gaze gives chills down his spine. It is not a normal look, there is no heat there or shine or emotion, it is cold and fearful. Alphard is unable to maintain eye contact and finds himself looking down to avoid confrontation.

Riddle takes a deep breath, feeling his heartbeat furiously against his chest as an unknown emotion begins to rise with bubbling anger in his stomach. An emotion that he could only compare with selfishness and possession.

What caught his attention was the sound of her laughter that he never heard, at least not directed at him, but then he realized that she was laughing at Alphard with pink cheeks and sparkles in her eyes, the light of the sunset lighting up her face and the strands of her hair.

He locked his jaw and looked under his lashes and when Alphard laughed too, his eyes narrowed.

 _What does that mean?_ He asked himself. Their rapport raised the deepest confusion and suspicion, but that was momentarily put aside when he saw Granger touch Alphard's hair and trace a path through his ear to the earring Black wore.

It was an act with no ulterior motives, but in Riddle's view it was intimate and very close and he found himself squeezing the cover of the book until his knuckles turned white.

If her kindness is given to everyone in such a banal way, then for her the actions she took in the tent didn't mean as much as for him and Tom doesn't know if he is annoyed by the closeness between her and Black or if he is admitting to himself that it has special meaning for him.

He grits his teeth, not liking what he was feeling. Tom doesn't like to be taken by surprise, he usually needs time to sort and analyze, otherwise, he can be unpredictable and his unpredictability can be dangerous.

Tom watches Alphard sit next to him out of the corner of his eye, _maybe I'll have a conversation with him later._

He looks at Granger, who now has his head against the window, absently watching the sunset, this time he isn't even trying to hide it; he is studying her. Tom wonders if there is any relationship between her and Alphard, Alphard is attractive and charismatic enough to attract other girls but does Granger fit into the 'other girls' type? Tom has a hard time believing this, but it seems that way. The problem with the question is how they got to that level. So, he remembers that it was Alphard who lent her the Slytherin robe, he was the one who arrived with her in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, he was the one who accompanied Tom in the bathroom of Moaning Myrtle. _How curious._ For now, he will be more of a spectator, however, that does not mean he will not take action, he just needs to connect everything. Having a thought, he closes the book in a ' _paf'._

"Granger." He gets her attention.

"Yes?" Hermione leaned her head against the window.

"I made a promise to you and I keep my promises," Tom spoke and Hermione looked more suspicious. "I will do you a favour, anything as long as what you ask for me does not make me expelled from Hogwarts, or make me go to Azkaban or doesn't kill me and doesn't expose me in a degrading way." He maintained his posture as if he were talking about business. "In other words, I'm offering you a vow."

Hermione adjusts as she hears his words, she blinks repeatedly trying to adapt to what she heard.

"An Unbreakable Vow?" She asked, incredulous.

"Of course not, silly." Tom shook his head. "But don't take my words in vain. I don't say those words to anyone." He stood up and held out his hand. "All you have to say is: What I want is… And that's it. In return, whatever you saw, knew and heard, you won't be able to tell anyone about it. What do you say? "

Lestrange and Malfoy looked at each other and a small smile appeared between them.

A Vow with the Young Dark Lord? This was crazy, but then the proposal to have Riddle grant a favour was too tempting to be rejected. She could save Harry Potter when they both returned to their original time, she could stop the battle if he made the connection between this Hermione that he met and the Hermione that he wants to kill in the future. It was too tempting and yet inaccurate.

She gets up, about to make a decision, it is at that moment that Enid opens the cabin door, dressed in the Gryffindor uniform and with the Head Girl badge pinned to her robe, her hair was loose and in a beautiful pin-up style.

"Riddle, finally, I was looking for you. We have to meet with the other prefects, go get ready. " Enid spoke. She was early because Riddle is never late, it was probably the nervousness of being the new Head Girl.

Her eyes roamed the cabin occupants until they reached Hermione.

"Hermione!" She smiled. "What are you doing here? We were all waiting for you in the other cabin. "

Hermione opened her mouth, but it was Riddle who spoke first.

"Miss Granger and I met at the station, she was having some difficulties with her trunk and I helped her. We talked and I invited her to join us. We did become friends, didn't we, Miss Granger? "

"Of course ... I suppose so." Hermione had no choice but to agree, Riddle was pressing for her to confirm what he had just said.

"Oh! Really? Well, that's great." Enid tried to be kind. "I will call the others, we will be waiting for you, Riddle. Algie is already with the Ravenclaw prefects. "

"Right."

When she was gone, Hermione sat down, Riddle picked up his things and walked to the sliding door of the cabin. He turned and said,

"Boys -" Everyone looked at him "- take care of Miss Granger." And closed the cabin door, leaving Hermione there.

Spent just a second with them looking at the door until they turned their attention to her. Hermione leaned her back against the window feeling cornered and for a moment imagined the hissing snakes in the cabin. Malfoy looked her up and down and she heard a small laugh from Mulciber. She took a deep breath, making herself more courageous because they seemed to enjoy the fear.

"What is your relationship with Riddle?" Avery asked.

"Why don't you ask him?" Hermione suggested, watching a nerve in Avery's jaw bounce. "Don't tell me you are afraid to ask such a simple question?"

 _Oh, no._ Talking to them would be like stepping on thin ice. She didn't know what to say to them, but she knew she shouldn't say much. She played with him and they seemed to notice. Avery narrowed her eyes and stood up quickly.

"Avery." Malfoy scolded him. "Sit down. Now."

Malfoy and Avery exchanged a long look and Avery sat like a sulky child. _Oh, right, Abraxas Malfoy is second in command._

Lestrange laughed, happy to be watching that scene. "Why do things look more fun when Miss Granger is with us?"

"Don't be so happy," Rosier said. "She's a problem," Rosier spoke as if Hermione wasn't even there. "By the way, Alphard -"

"What?" Alphard grunted.

"- If your brother hurts my sister, I will finish him."

Alphard sighed and rolled his eyes. "For Merlin, he's only eleven! What do you think Cygnus is going to do with Druella? "

 _What? Wait! Were they talking about Cygnus and Druella? That Cygnus and that Druella?_

Malfoy made a noise in his throat.

"It's time. We have to go get ready. " He got up. "Miss Granger." He opened the door in a gentlemanly gesture.

Hermione took her things, gave a half-ironic smile and went to put on her uniform.

* * *

 **o0o**

 **"** Hermione!" She heard Ectur and Bilius call her. She stepped away from the Riddle gang and walked briskly to them, a smile on her face.

"How are you?" Hermione hugged them.

"We are fine. I wanted to write to you, but you never gave me your address. " Ectur spoke, his cheeks turning pink.

"It is true. It broke our heart. " Bilius crossed his arm over Hermione's shoulders. It was much more a friendly gesture than something like 'she's my girl'. Meanwhile, Ectur grimaced and elbowed Bilius in the ribs, forcing him to release Hermione. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"How was your vacation, Hermione?" Ectur observed the details on her face, her sun-coloured cheeks and her wild hair.

"It was a little complicated." She seemed a little lost in thought. Ectur interpreted her response as loneliness and concern for trying to start life after she participated in the War.

"It must be difficult for you. I mean, after the war. "

"We are not going to talk about sad things, are we? Hermione is here with us and now we are definitely veterans! " Bilius tried to change the subject, attracting more of Hermione's smile. She thanked him mentally, however, Ectur grunted for Bilius' interruption.

They sat at the Gryffindor table, waiting for the new students. It didn't take long for the new students to arrive, this time they were following Professor Slughorn, while they queue for the Sorting Ceremony. Headmaster Dippet announced about the new school year with Dumbledore beside him, holding the Sorting Hat, the famous stool empty waiting for the new students.

Slughorn joined Silvanus Kettleburn, Galatea Merrythought and Dumbledore, who were standing to greet students who would be classified in their Houses.

When the first name was called, Hermione almost got up from the seat she was in. _Alastor Moody?_ She lifted her neck, trying to see as the young boy walked over to the stool. _It was Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody._ There was nothing unusual about that boy who was sitting with the Sorting Hat on his head. There were no scars, nor the electrifying blue eye that moves on its own, he had both legs and mainly; the nose was complete. In fact, he was cute with big brown eyes that were childlike features, plump and pink cheeks, strawberry blond hair and a look that showed his insecurity for being in front of so many people.

" **Gryffindor!"** The Hat announced.

The Gryffindor table burst into applause, she put her hand over her mouth trying to hold back the smile and tears of happiness when she saw Moody sit at the Gryffindor table. Harry had to have seen this, he would be so happy.

The next to be called was Cygnus Black. Hermione didn't understand the fear Walburga had when she looked at Cygnus. The boy clearly had magic and he acting like a noble, but somehow was different from Draco - who was immature. Cygnus was slender for his age and had a more physical resemblance to Alphard than to Walburga, combed black hair and grey eyes with long lashes with a slightly upturned nose. He had a serene, confident, calm and certainly lonely expression.

" **Slytherin!** " The Hat didn't even seem to think.

Slughorn shook Cygnus's hand with a smile on his face and gestured for him to sit at the Slytherin table, which now applauded his presence.

Damocles Belby, the creator of the Wolfsbane Potion was classified for Ravenclaw House.

Druella Rosier. It was Druella Rosier's turn. Pretty, with blue eyes, long blond hair and pale skin. Narcissa Malfoy had inherited all of her mother's genetics. The girl had a curious look and tilted her head when she seemed to hear something coming from the Hat, she wrinkled her forehead in disagreeing with anything that the Hat seemed to be saying.

" **Slytherin!** "

She nodded confidently and proudly of whatever she said to Hat. It was certainly a threat to burn him until he put her in the House she preferred.

Erica Stainwright, Everklena's future creator, was classified for Ravenclaw.

Ethel Selwyn. A member of the Selwyn Family, possibly related to that man who threatened Xenophilius Lovegood.

" **Slytherin!** "

Evelyn Thomas had brown eyes, channel haircut and front upper teeth slightly separated. However, despite her teeth, she would become a beautiful girl when she grew up. When the Hat was placed on her head, she seemed to smile at the voice that was in her mind.

" **Slytherin!** "

Gethsemane Prickle, the future Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was classified for the Hufflepuff House

Pomona Sprout. _Pomona Sprout? Professor Pomona!_ Hermione smiled when she saw Professor Pomona's happiness at having the Hat on her head. She was short, with a big smile despite having one of her front teeth missing - it was probably a milk tooth. - Her hair was dark brown with endless curls. Big shiny eyes and an appearance of being an adventurous child and without afraid of getting dirty.

" **Hufflepuff!"**

Selina Sapworthy. _That Selina who's going to have a painting here at Hogwarts?_

" **Gryffindor!"**

Hermione was seeing historical facts happening, but even with the happiness of seeing Moody, Pomona and others, Hermione was more concerned that she was seeing Voldemort's allies. It was his army gathering right before her eyes, one by one.

"Two! Just two? What's happening?" Bilius grunted. "I mean, I understand that it is a classification, but only two have entered Gryffindor so far?"

"Most entered the Slytherin House." Ectur glanced over his shoulder at the Slytherin table.

"Whatever." Ignatius shrugged. "In today's times, most are cowards."

Hermione did not dare to debate the matter, watching the rest of the new students being classified. Slytherins are not nice, cheerful or easy to get along with, but she also doesn't believe they are cowards - in the meaning of the word which is the opposite of brave. In her view, those who belong to Slytherin House are courageous, because it must not be easy to live there.

After the Initiation Ceremony, with the students already in their proper Houses and the end of the teachers' meeting, Dumbledore and Dippet are in the Deputy Headmaster room.

"Many students joined Slytherin House this year," Dumbledore commented.

"Say what you mean, my great old friend." Dippet looked at the fire in the fireplace.

"I am clearly against judging a House by the values it carries and I believe that each one has a good and a bad side -"

"But ...?" Dippet waited.

"-These children don't learn these values alone. They are largely influenced by their experiences or their parents. "

"I know what you mean." Dippet needed no further explanation. "You fear for young Miss Evelyn Thomas. A Muggle-born classified for Slytherin. "

"For a moment I questioned the choice of the Sorting Hat, but the Hat never makes a mistake."

Dippet and Dumbledore looked at each other.

"She is not going to adapt. Not in that House. "

Dippet sighed.

"Perhaps, my great friend, this new generation could be the reason for a change in mentality."

Dumbledore looked at his teacup, very sceptical of the possibility that Dippet suggested.

"I hope so, my friend, I hope so."

At that moment there is a knock on the door. Dumbledore makes a gesture with his hand and the door opens by itself, who was standing waiting to enter was none other than Tom Riddle. Tom was not going to be able to go another day without his wand, he needed to feel the weight, feel the wand lead his fierce magic.

If Dumbledore was surprised, he didn't show it.

"Tom! My golden boy, come in, please. " Dippet invited him in. With a low gaze and perfect posture, Tom Riddle entered the room.

"What brings you here at this hour, Tom?" Dippet asked.

Smiling, Riddle replied. "I came to get my wand from Professor Dumbledore."

"I expected you to come and pick it up tomorrow".

"I know, but tomorrow will be my first day in the sixth year and I would like to not be late for classes. I think I'm a little anxious. " He gave a half-smile, wanting to indicate shame and nervousness.

Dumbledore got up, went to his desk and took Tom Riddle's wand out of the drawer. Tom's hand itched with the eagerness to pick up the wand, he almost took a step forward in anticipation but remained in control with a lot of effort.

"Here it is, Tom." Dumbledore handed him the wand.

As soon as his hand closed on his wand, Tom breathed a little easier, a little more relieved and with a strange feeling that mixed euphoria and pleasure, Tom felt the wand responding to his magic.

He raised his head, this time he was no longer smiling and gave a slight nod.

"Thank you."

He was about to turn away when Dumbledore asked:

"How was your vacation, Tom?" He looked over the half-moon glasses.

"It was actually surprisingly good. You were right. I think I should have enjoyed it more. " He gave a restrained smile with his eyes closed. "Well, if you'll excuse me. Good night Headmaster Dippet, Professor Dumbledore. "

He turned, closing the door behind him.

"He's a brilliant young man, Dumbledore. Probably one of the best students this school has ever seen and he is capable of becoming even the best of all. Maybe he will become better than you, my old friend. " Dippet laughed as he took another sip of tea.

Outside, Tom's friendly expression was gone in less than a second. He rolled his eyes, the left corner of his upper lip rising in a clear expression of disgust and arrogance. He took a deep breath, not having the patience to deal with Dumbledore and Dippet at the same time. However he was happy, he had his wand now. He could use magic. He was at home.

"My Lord." Mulciber greeted him when he entered the Slytherin Common Room. "Walburga, Lucretia and Araminta are _presenting_ how the Slytherin House works to the new girls. Dolohov and Nott are with the boys. "

"Hm." Tom took off his Slytherin robe and held it. He looked down at the floor below him, where the sixth and seventh graders gathered. It was the veterans' party. "Malfoy." He called.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Bring Granger to me."

* * *

 **\- Bothriechis schlegeli, also known as the Eyelash Snake, the twelfth most poisonous snake in the world.**

 **-Author's note: This chapter was extremely long, reaching the 15,000 word mark. It was too long, so I had to divide the chapter in two, the part where we went back to Hermione and Tom and Tom Riddle's point of view is in the next chapter.  
Well, I hope you like it. Tell me what you think.**


	14. Chapter 13 Aipysurus

**I would like to thank** beccasullivanwrites1, CCBPotter, Infernalbooks, ALIASTESIN, Emily da great, Castillo16, ns2095, LittleBabyBambi, LittleBabyBambi, Cassie-011, crazyKate92, AvalonTheLadyKiller, Skydoll, Noone121212, Black Banshee **for commenting, for their kindness and for their full support in the comments. Thanks! What would I be without your words?**

 **I would also like to thank 141 Reviews, 179 Favs and 304 Follows** **. English is not my mother tongue, so I hope you understand if I have any errors in the text. Let me know so I can correct it.**

 **Thank you, I love you guys!**

* * *

 _Chapter 13. Aipysur us_ \- _The snake pit._

"A party?" Being pulled by Enid into the Gryffindor Common Room to meet with her Housemates, Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's the veterans' party."

A party right after the Initiation Ceremony? If it is a custom, then this custom has been lost over time, because it did not happen in her original time. Looking around, Hermione realized that the participating students were in the sixth and seventh grades, however, Moody and Selina were present.

"This is a party where the housemates celebrate the arrival of the new students, but since tomorrow is their first day, they will go to bed earlier. Only the sixth and seventh-year members remain. Last year was my first participation. " Enid explained. "Although the intention is to introduce the House to new students, the party turned out to be special for older students. For us, we celebrate the passage of being more experienced. We are almost adults, Hermione. The sixth and seventh year is where the most experienced students at Hogwarts are, we should be respected by our Housemates. "

Enid liked the image of being a reference. Of course, she liked to be seen as a young girl who had already gone through the Debutante rite, who was fully ready for adulthood and who was already engaged.

Hermione was taken out of her thoughts when she saw Moody being carried by the boys, while the rest shouted his name and clapped rhythmically. Moody was laughing as he was bounced around in the boys' arms.

"Moody! Moody! Moody!"

She smiled and found herself unable to not join the group of Gryffindors who were shouting at his name. As soon as the boys arrived at the centre of the Common Room, they lowered Moody - who had pink cheeks of euphoria. Suddenly everyone was silent when Enid stepped forward.

"Alastor Moody." Enid's voice was confident and explanatory. "Welcome to Gryffindor House. Everyone here is very happy to welcome you. Our colour is red, we are governed by the element of Fire, we are brave and determined. Each year new students arrive and others leave. But there is something that is passed on to each new student. Something to remember where your loyalty should be. "

"You can choose one of them. Just get it. " Algie held out a red cloth bag, much like a medieval coin bag with the Gryffindor Lion symbol, to Moody. "Put your hand there and take just one."

Moody hesitantly looked at the bag and Hermione held both eyebrows up. Cautiously not knowing what was in there, Moody put her hand in the bag and his eyes widened, he blinked a few times and from the bag took out a small male pin in the shape of a lion's head.

"Look at what is written on the back," Algie instructed. "And you'll see whose it is."

Moody took the brooch close to his face and read it aloud.

"Percival Pratt. You mean I took the pin from Percival Pratt?

Alastor Moody taking off a poet's brooch? If there is no irony in this situation, then Hermione does not know what is there. The Moody from her original time is a good person, but is rude and doesn't hide what he thinks. She has not yet spoken to the inexperienced young man who is the newest member of Gryffindor, however, something tells her that the arduous years of battles have contributed to forming the brutish side of his personality. But for now, she is happy to witness his happiness and talent.

Algie confirmed with a smile, then he looked up and looked at Selina.

"It's your turn, Selina."

Selina, who was distant and shy, looked startled when Ignatius approached her and lifted her in his bride-style arms. The twelve-year-old blushed, placing her hands on her cheeks, as she heard the new housemates shouting her name. Ignatius placed her on the floor next to Moody and bowed, playing with the girl who saw him as a prince charming. She looked at Algie and put her hand inside the bag without even thinking twice.

"Pony hair?" She asked, confused when she removed her hand.

"Well, they say it's Sir Cadogan's pony hair." Algie laughed.

Hermione was finding it all very funny, but when Algie, Enid and everyone else looked at her, she knew something was wrong.

"It's your turn, Hermione," Enid said.

"Wait. What? Me?" She pointed to herself.

"Well, we thought that since you arrived at the end of the school year, that now would be a good time for you to do your initiation into Gryffindor." Explained Algie.

Not knowing what to do and what to do, Hermione took a step a little uncertainly. She realized that it would be very rude and even suspicious to deny anything that would confirm her loyalty to the House, however, she always felt that loyalty should be given to people, never to symbols, but Gryffindor is now the only home that remains so much at this time as in the original time, she has nowhere to go and she is loyal here and everything that this House means.

Hermione looked hesitantly at Algie, but he encouraged her with a nod. She sighed and put her hand inside the bag. For a fleeting moment, Hermione thought she was touching something, but the object slipped through her fingers and seemed to be lost in nothing. There didn't seem to be anything inside. When she withdrew her hand, she looked at her empty hand and frowned in disappointment.

Meeting Algie's gaze, Hermione murmured.

"I-I didn't get anything."

An awkward silence formed as she received glances.

"Um ..." Not knowing what to say, Algie looked at Ignatius for help. This had never happened before, a real Gryffindor can always take one of the treasures left by other Gryffindors.

"Wow, so now we see that Hermione is definitely not a freshman." Ectur said. He put a hand on Hermione's shoulder and shook his head as if he thought that awkward moment was unnecessary. Luckily, the Housemates found his comment funny.

Algie seemed to accept that answer after watching Hermione for a moment. This was indeed a rite that only happened to students who had just arrived in the first year, it might not work with older students. Turning his back with the lions' bag in his hand, Algie stopped and saw Enid taking Moody and Selina to the appropriate dorms. Even though he already had Hugh Biggs's Quidditch glove as Gryffindor treasure - which is not as cool as Sir Cadogan's pony hair - he put his hand inside his bag and was surprised to be able to get another Gryffindor treasure. This time he took Jason Charmer's sock, _eww_. He returned the treasure to the lions' bag and looked over his shoulder at Hermione, who was being consoled by Ectur.

Ectur still had a hand on Hermione's shoulder and turned her slowly to face him.

Hermione felt strange, disappointed, sad. In part, it was better not to have caught anything, she was from the future, but that upset her. It was like she wasn't Gryffindor enough. Maybe she couldn't get something because of the time travel, maybe it was something else ... Hermione thoughtfully touched the locket that was hidden under her shirt. Even though she was suspicious about why she didn't take anything, it didn't make her feel any better.

"Hey, don't be like that." Ectur put both hands on her shoulders and lowered his face slightly to come face to face. " Don't be sad. This is childish, just to make new students less scared and to feel welcome." He explained. "We are not even 100% sure that the things in that bag are really real. That belonged to those people. And if, so what? Doesn't mean anything. It doesn't make you less Gryffindor. The Hat put you here. "

"Not before debating for a long time." She lowered her head. After all, has she changed so much to the point of raising doubts?

"But he made a decision. You are here, with us. Those things are other people's legacy. As long as each of us took a reminder of someone's legacy, you are free of that. When your turn comes, when you finish the seventh year, you will leave your legacy and anyone will be lucky to take what Hermione Granger left. "

Looking up, Hermione found him smiling at her with a warm glow in his eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"I have no doubts," Ectur replied confidently. Hermione looked down, touching her ear, a little shy by the confidence that Ectur conveyed, but was startled when she heard music coming from an imitation of old Muggle radio. She saw the young people gathering to dance, smiling at each other, while some were already clapping to the rhythm of the music, however, her attention went back to Ectur as she watched him take off his Gryffindor robe and throw it to the side, rolling up his sleeves shirt and loosening his tie.

"Let's Dance?" Offering his hand, he asked.

"What? No, no, no! " She cannot help the smile of despair while gesturing with her hands. "I can not dance." Hermione justified while noting how the couples of students danced at a fast pace to the music.

"Come on, Hermione. It is nothing you cannot do. You shouldn't even be that bad." Ectur took her hand, pulling her into the middle of the Gryffindor circle.

She was definitely not bad, but she wasn't the best either, and she would probably be the worst of all if he imagined she could do the Swing dance.

"Ectur, I really don't know how to dance like that." She tried to pull him by the forearm, afraid of the likely humiliation that she could endure in public.

Ectur stopped when he felt her two hands on his arm, he looked at her and smiled. It was not a smile dispelling Hermione's fears, quite the contrary, if this smile could be compared to anything, it would be admiration. He thought she was beautiful, really cute, and he found it amazing how this girl who was normally confident and intelligent, still had her insecurities. It made her real and less perfect than he was used to seeing.

"The question is not about knowing how to dance, Hermione." He reassured her. "It's about having fun and I want to have fun with you."

Then he took her hand, took it to the centre and spun her around when Hermione stopped, she looked at him startled like a cat. Ectur moved, his feet sliding from right to left in a coordinated movement and she realized that he was demonstrating to her how to dance.

From what she saw of the other girls moving, she understood that in her part of the dance, she needed to keep her foot on the tip to be able to move more smoothly and lightly.

"Remember, Hermione, it's not about knowing. It's about having fun. " Ectur repeated.

She was a quick learner by nature, things didn't come easy for her in the wizarding world, she needed to dedicate herself to always be one step ahead of everyone else who were half-bloods or pure-blood wizards, it was the way she had to learn, defend herself, to protect herself. To say that she was also important. Hermione knew that if she was dedicated enough, she could probably master the dance as well as everything in life, only this time it wasn't about _knowing, defending, protecting herself_. _It was about having fun_. And she allowed herself to have fun.

"And...?" Enid asked Bilius, watching Hermione and Ectur dance as they laughed at each other in the middle of the Gryffindor circle. "He likes her?"

"That soldier over there is in the middle of the crossfire and the bullets she is shooting are cannonballs," Bilius replied, scratching his chin. He had thought that a beard was growing, even though Enid couldn't even see a hair.

"What does that mean?" She wrinkled her forehead, losing reference to Muggle War.

"It means that he is one step away from being hit completely. That is, he is starting to like her too much. He wrote me some letters and in them, he always asked if I knew Hermione's address or if I had any contact with her. "

"This is bad. His parents ... "Enid murmured thoughtfully.

"Yes." Bilius agreed.

"Tomorrow Ignatius will announce his engagement to Lucretia Black." Enid and Bilius looked across the Common Room, where Algie and Ignatius were talking.

"Poor little thing." Bilius nodded and Enid elbowed him in the stomach. It was the second time that night that he had been elbowed.

"Not talk like that. He's not going to die and it's not going to be his wake. "

"You are very positive, eh?"

"Um ... Maybe they will learn to love each other?" She suggested and Bilius raised both eyebrows in disbelief as if to say: _really?_

Enid stopped the conversation when she noticed Algie coming towards her, inviting her to dance and she would not deny this opportunity to be with the one she loved again. She just felt lucky, she was getting everything she wanted and there was nothing better.

For his part, Bilius found himself walking towards Ignatius and sat down beside him. The so cheerful Ignatius Prewett was quieter than usual and much more thoughtful, silently watching his housemates having fun. Bilius, noticing the darker aura coming from Ignatius, tapped Ignatius on the shoulder in a companionship gesture, which did not move but acknowledged his friend's attempt at solidarity.

Breathing fast, Hermione found a place to rest after dancing three songs in a row and Ectur followed her. She put her hand on her chest trying to calm the rapid heartbeat, then she fanned herself when she felt hot. The two exchanged looks and laughed together. Hermione was not a very outgoing person, but it was really good to let the accumulated energy go out and finally de-stress. That didn't mean she wasn't worried, but for a moment, a brief moment, it felt good to be alive. She was still a seventeen-year-old girl, a girl who was often mature for her age, but she was still seventeen.

"I have to admit, that was fun. Even though I did it all wrong. " She commented, running her hand over her face to wipe the sweat off and to remove the strands of wild hair that were sticking to her neck.

"See? I told you."

They stood for a moment, side by side, watching Enid and Algie - like the exemplary couple they were - dancing. Enid could dance a thousand times better than Hermione, she moved subtly and let herself be guided by Algie in the dance.

Seeing it could be demotivating for anyone who was suffering from love, watching them dance while laughing and Enid's engagement ring sparkled in the light, brought joy but also aroused the insecurities of the heart. They were an example of a perfect couple, in fact.

The thought made Hermione remember Ignatius' situation, turning her head to the side, she murmured to Ectur:

"How is your brother's situation?"

On the eve of the departure of the Hogwarts Express at the end of last school year, Hermione had found the two brothers talking. Ectur was comforting his older brother, who had just received a letter from his parents saying that they had accepted the Black family's proposal to bring the two families together through the marriage of their children. It was that same night that Hermione found Tom Riddle in the hall, hidden in the darkness with green eyes shining at her.

On the day that Lucretia Black went to the Gryffindor table asking for Ignatius' attention and they talked, it was nothing more than she already knew that her parents were meeting with the Prewett family, demanding that Ignatius speak to the parents and deny the marriage. The point of the situation is that if the Prewett's denied it, Lucretia would be the one who would be disgraced for being denied, unless the Blacks managed to reverse the situation. However, Ignatius had no say in the matter, his parents were already determined.

"It was very strange, Hermione." Murmured Ectur. He put both arms above his knee and rested his head on his forearm, looking at the floor absently while talking to Hermione. "I have never been so uncomfortable in my life. My parents invited the Black primary family to dinner. Can you imagine how strange it was to have dinner with Mr and Mrs Black and Lucretia and Orion? The cutlery could be heard. "

Ectur commented.

"I heard that Mrs Black was kind during her years at Hogwarts, she was even chosen for Hufflepuff, like a good Macmillan. But I think the years of living with the Blacks have changed her a lot or all they said was great gossip. I've never seen anyone so arrogant in my life." He made a face. "Lucretia demanded an opal engagement ring and her parents agreed that their daughter deserved nothing less. Ignatius gave her the ring while listening to Orion's sarcasm. That guy can usually be quiet but think of a tongue that is worse than a knife. Tomorrow she will probably start wearing the ring." Ectur sighed. "The only thing they talked about was the 'prestige of the Black family', that dinner was the worst of my life and it was horrible for my brother."

Looking at Ignatius, there is a slight crease on his forehead in dismay.

"I don't want to be like him. I will not accept. "

What could Hermione say? What could she do? She was attached to the idea of not being nosy, of just being a spectator, of not taking action.

"By the way, thanks for what you did." He says and she frowns in confusion. "For having comforted him, embraced. You really are a good person, Hermione." Ectur smiles softly.

Hermione shook her head at the compliment. "It was nothing. I didn't do anything too much. "

He nodded toward the center, taking her to dance again.

At that moment, while Ectur and Hermione were talking and dancing, Enid is called by one of the classmates who whispers in her ear, pointing to the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower Common Room. Her eyebrows go up when she hears her colleague's comment, waving to her friend, Enid goes to check what was going on, while the rest of the students were distracted enjoying the party.

Going out into the corridors, Enid is surprised to find Malfoy waiting outside.

"Abraxas? What are you doing here?" She says, looking to the empty corridor.

Abraxas was dressed in the Slytherin uniform, but his robe was nowhere to be seen. He takes her arm and gently pulls her away from the Fat Lady painting.

"Shhh!" He has his eyes wide, while he looks to the Fat Lady painting, who was probably pretending to be asleep. _Annoying_ , he thinks. "Keep your voice down."

When they are a little away from the Fat Lady, he lets go of her arm.

"I need you to bring Granger. I need to talk to her. "

"What? Do you know what time is it? Nobody can walk the corridors at this hour anymore, Abraxas."

"For Merlin's sake, just talk to Granger and bring her here."

"What do you want with her? What are you doing here? You know tonight is the veterans' party. You shouldn't even be here. "

"Oh really?" Abraxas stiffens his face. "You shouldn't be here too, if I remember correctly. According to the rules, you should be in Head Girl's dorm, but you're not there, are you? "

"Are you threatening me?"

"No way. I am doing the favour of reminding you."

Enid crosses her arms under her breasts and turns her head wildly.

"Right." She agrees. "But don't get caught, otherwise the consequences will remain for me."

Abraxas nods, agreeing with her.

"Wait here."

Out of curiosity, after he saw her go, Malfoy, who had seen the painting door ajar, he dares enter the Gryffindor Tower. As soon as he passed through the opening, he could hear the sound of the students. It was noisy and in his opinion, it was classless. The music was in the background, he goes up the stairs a little bit, just enough to look and not be noticed and watched Granger and Prewett dancing together as well as other students. _Decency she didn't have,_ flirting with Alphard in the cabin of the Express and now with Prewett.

Seeing Enid speak in her ear, he knew it was time to retract, went down the stairs and waited outside.

Moments later Enid and Hermione went out into the corridors.

"What's happening?" Hermione was talking, but she noticed the boy waiting in the corridor. "Malfoy?" She asked with a confused expression. "What does that mean, Enid?"

Enid shrugged.

"Do you know each other?" Hermione asked. Her question was more about whether they had a friendship. Because if the answer was yes, she certainly didn't foresee it.

"We are childhood colleagues," Enid replied.

"I need to talk to you," Malfoy commented to Hermione and then made a noise in his throat. "Alone."

"I understood." Enid held up both hands. "Don't get caught, regardless of what you're doing." She looked at Malfoy and gave Hermione a much more suspicious look.

Hermione and Abraxas waited for Enid to enter the Gryffindor refuge, before turning their attention to each other.

"What you want?" Cautiously Hermione asked.

" **He** wants to talk to you," Malfoy replied. It was understood that ' **He** ' meant Tom Riddle.

"Now?" She narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry, but the answer is no. It is late, I am tired and I seriously prefer to be in the company of my Housemates. Tell him that I will talk to him tomorrow. " She was ready to turn and head towards the painting that hid the entrance to the Tower.

"Wait." Taking her arm, Malfoy captured Hermione while his tone hardened. Hermione glanced at the hand on her arm and then at his face, her eyebrows lowered and her lips became a thin line. Noticing her expression, Malfoy let her arm go.

It was not typical for someone to refuse to speak to a member of the Malfoy family, it was not typical for someone to refuse his presence, but this girl was anything but typical. As a manipulator and observer, Abraxas realized that she was very evasive, strangely aggressive and seemed to be disgusted by his presence. However he cannot judge her, they saw very little and the last time, she was being tortured in a Crucio by Riddle, who shortly afterwards almost killed her in an unforgivable curse.

Hermione turned and narrowed her eyes, Malfoy locked his jaw. He looked down for a moment, swallowed, and looked back at her.

"We will cut with falsehood." Said Abraxas. "We both know what like **He** is and what **He** is capable of. You saw it, you felt it. He asked me to bring you to him, what he wants, I don't know. If you don't come, things are going to get very, very ugly. And I may not be referring to my situation. " Malfoy looked down the dark corridor from which he came, which had only night light - an indication that it might be the new Slytherin students. - and then looked back to the Gryffindor Tower entrance - maybe it was her housemates.

It was Hermione's turn to stiffen.

"Look, you somehow got on his good side. I doubt you want to go back to the bad side. So, please come with me. " He said in a very polite and purposefully courteous manner. False cordiality and serenity could be a cruel trap.

Hermione hoped she wouldn't regret that decision, but something was telling her that the night would still long. With doubt, she left the wand ready in the holster.

"All right."

Malfoy nodded and made his way down the dark corridor, hoping that Hermione would follow him closely to the Slytherin Dungeons. They walked in silence, Abraxas made no effort to try to talk, while Hermione always kept a step back for caution. In his silence, Malfoy was trying to understand the girl. He doesn't know much about her, no one does, except - apparently - Riddle. He is not very surprised by this, somehow Riddle has always been one step ahead of everyone, always knowing what others don't know, always being very powerful. If he goes to admit to himself - which he doesn't - there is envy and a certain kind of admiration for his lord, Tom Riddle. He admires what Riddle is and envies his power.

In different circumstances, if he were more powerful, Malfoy would not hesitate to strip Riddle of the position he had, only he is not. One of the main characteristics of being a Slytherin is knowing how to recognize your weaknesses and strengths and how to use them to your advantage, as well as recognizing those who will achieve greatness. And Riddle would achieve greatness. And Malfoy knew that. The Slytherins interpreted the school years at Hogwarts as a preparation for adult life, that is, it is in the school period that you analyze the people with whom you want to make connections, you nurture these relationships as a kind of sponsorship and exchange of favours when you finish school at Hogwarts and start adulthood, you'll have enough people and connections to start climbing the ladder of power.

Take into account that in this House, most of the students come from golden cradles and prestigious families, almost always the Sacred Twenty-Eight, so - practically - everyone has seen or been mentioned in some meeting or party of quality _high society_ wizards and would probably get married in some arranged marriage or when the union of a couple was rarely approved by both families.

In any case, 'Riddle' was not a name for the Sacred Twenty-Eight and it was not a wizard name, but no one within the Slytherin House dared to confront the idea behind it. Besides, Tom Riddle was extremely reserved, but because he had so much power, everyone believed that some strong wizard was related to him. Like a good Slytherin, Malfoy and others noted that Riddle will achieve great things and chose to be with him rather than those who once questioned the purity of Riddle's blood.

 _Never again,_ Abraxas remember the day when Riddle had turned on them. _**It was terrible.**_

Over time, they saw the natural talent he had and with envy, they wanted to have the resourcefulness and ability to do what he did. Like how easy it could cast a spell or destroy someone's mind in dust. Then, greed appeared, they wanted to know how to do the same things. It all started on the day they attacked two Muggle-born Ravenclaw students, one of whom had given a response _too intelligent_ to Lestrange's pleasure, and incredible as that may be, Lestrange can be more inflexible and cruel than can be shown and for sure, much more uncontrollable. An inquiry was made to find out the reason for the fight with Dumbledore as the one who was in the mood for the truth.

Dumbledore, _the one who seems to have a suspicion or perhaps a veiled hatred for all Slytherins_.

But to everyone's surprise, Riddle intervened, telling Headmaster Dippet one of the tastiest lies, which put an end to it before it all started. Riddle had saved them, even after the attack they had made on him.

They watched from afar as Riddle fell into favour with the teachers and the Headmaster Dippet, sometimes he even got a gift from a teacher and always managed to break a rule. Slughorn also presented members of the Ministry of Magic with what Riddle was like, always praising and people who read the letters quoting Riddle were interested in the infant prodigy, sometimes telling Riddle to look for them when he left school. Riddle hadn't even finished school and was already climbing the ladder of power. And neither Riddle nor they had started attending the Slughorn Club.

So, that they decided and showed the side of the connection and sponsorship and it seemed that, that preteen who was Riddle, was just waiting for that moment. It was there, between the ages of twelve-thirteen, almost fourteen, that everything had started. However, Riddle also had the power of choice, he did not choose the weak and those he saw who had no future. These people had no right to be with him. Thus, those with whom he developed 'friendship' felt privileged. One of them was Malfoy.

Each of them became the prestigious students of Hogwarts, being practically the lords of the school for the students, considered the best by the teachers and the future leaders, thanks to the meetings that Slughorn offered in his club. While questionable acts took place right under the nose of each of these people who consecrate them. They were terrible acts, forbidden spells, corrupt morals, but they gave a strange feeling of dominance and freedom. Things they only achieved through their lord, Tom Riddle.

"How do I know this is not a trap?" Hermione muttered under her breath, but due to Hogwarts' empty corridors and silences, Hermione's voice sounded loud enough for Malfoy to hear and take him out of his reverie.

Blinking a few times to adapt to her question, Malfoy looked slightly over his shoulder, realizing how cautious she was. If possible, Hermione swore that he almost smiled, his face partially lit by the night light that made his hair look white, only he didn't smile. If he did much, with that expression that always seemed cold, he raised an eyebrow.

 _It seems that time in the company of Riddle influenced him as well._

"It looks like you got us wrong, Miss Granger," Malfoy replied solemnly. "We are much more prudent than that." In other words, what he meant was that: _Fool, I would not leave a witness like Enid._

When the two finally arrived in the Dungeons, the noise of the Bloody Baron's chains could be heard. That terrifying ghost. Hermione wasn't very happy to go to the Dungeons and enter the Slytherins' abode, but as Malfoy said between the lines, she had Enid as a favourable witness in case something happened.

Malfoy came near the bare stone wall and whispered the password. The wall slid, making way for them both. Malfoy passed through the opening without hesitation and waited for Hermione, who looked back over her shoulder at the dungeon corridors as if thinking one last time about what she was doing. He started to get impatient, _she was already there. What would it cost to take two more steps and enter at once?_

Taking a deep breath, Hermione went through the opening. She was more ready than she had ever been in her life, looking like a rabbit when heard a loud noise, ready to run if necessary.

Following Malfoy, she went downstairs to the real Slytherin Common Room. The flickering lights of green tones illuminated the meeting of the young students of the sixth and seventh years who were present. Their laughter and conversation could still be heard, but they were certainly quieter than the Gryffindors. And was there music too, _something like Slow Blues?_

When Hermione came here, in her desperation and haste, she could not appreciate or notice how effectively the Common Room was decorated. This time she stopped to get all the details. The Slytherin Common Room was divided into two floors, the second floor was where the dorms were, the first floor gave access to the second part of the tall bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling and the ground floor was the rest of the Common Room. The windows were large and long, reaching all floors and literally overlooking the bottom of the Great Lake, the large support columns had snakes of the same size around them. Above the fireplace was the Snake symbol, aristocratic sofas and armchairs, study and wizard chess tables, green blankets and cushions, the prevailing colours were silver, green and black. Compared to other houses, the Slytherin House seemed to have the largest and most sophisticated common room.

At the end of the stairs that had access to both the entrance and the Common Room, a girl was standing.

"Abraxas ...?" The girl frowned when she noticed Granger beside Malfoy. When the two passed her, Hermione asked Abraxas.

"Who is she?"

"Araminta Meliflua Black. Daughter of Charis neé Black and Caspar Crouch, cousin of the Blacks. She has a brother named Bartemius. " Malfoy explained as if he were bored.

 _Oh, Ectur had mentioned the Crouch family before in explaining the lineage of Bilius and the Black family._

She had extremely straight black hair, dark eyes that probably came from the Black genetic heritage. She was thin and considerably tall, with an inverted triangle shape, her nose was aquiline and she had thin but well-designed lips.

 _Araminta ... The one who will want to legalize Muggle hunting._

As she followed Malfoy, the Slytherins looked at her with curiosity and mild irritation, considering Hermione an intruder in their House.

Lestrange was leaning against one of the columns talking to a girl while smoking a cigarette that probably came from one of the stores in Horizont Alley, which was close to Diagon Alley. Malfoy passed him and nodded, receiving a similar greeting, but when Hermione passed, he made a point of blowing smoke towards her face. Hermione coughed slightly, as she fanned the smoke away from her face, drawing a few laughs from Lestrange and the girl who was in his company.

Realizing now, Hermione saw glasses of alcoholic drinks like Rum, some types of Whiskey and wine, as well as seeing some students smoking. She narrowed her eyes at this inappropriate behaviour, making sure that cigarettes and alcohol were not allowed inside the Houses.

Receiving glances for her presence, she wanted to turn around and go back to Gryffindor Tower, while there was still time, but Malfoy stopped, looked at her and said.

"Go up the stairs to the first floor. **He** 's waiting for you. "

Malfoy turned and left, joining Avery and Mulciber who were sitting on one of the sofas. The three looked at her through the group of Slytherins who were present and murmured among themselves. Hermione looked around, searching for a familiar face and found the person she was looking for partially hidden in the shadow that one of the columns offered, kissing a girl. Alphard Black was kissing someone. Seeming to sense that he was being watched, Alphard looked up and promptly met Hermione's gaze. His eyebrows went up and his expression was shocked.

 _What was she doing there?_ He asked himself.

Alphard was about to go to her when Hermione turned. She was not upset, if she was feeling anything, it would be a surprise that Sirius Black had such a womanizing uncle. She looked at the stairs leading to the first floor, before going up to meet Tom Riddle.

She found him standing and on his back, near the bookcase and with a book in his hand, he was not wearing his robe or grey sweater. There were two armchairs and a coffee table with a tray with glasses and two bottles of alcohol. The floor they were on was empty except for them. Whether it was an order from Riddle or if the Slytherins thought it was more fun down there, Hermione couldn't say, but she thinks it's the first option.

She made a noise in her throat to get his attention.

"Malfoy said you wanted to talk with me."

Tom turned around, closed the book he was reading and looked her up and down.

"What happened to you?" Asked Tom, raising an eyebrow.

"What you mean?"

He gestured with his fingers to her hair. Feeling conscious, Hermione touched her hair, realizing that her hair was much more bristled and much more rebellious than normal and what caused this was the fact that she danced.

Quickly Hermione takes her hair and puts it over her left shoulder, to give the impression that they are at least in control. In general, she is not a girl who cares about her appearance, but sometimes even she is irritated by her own hair.

Tom Riddle noticed her appearance as soon as he saw her, certainly her hair was unruly, but this time it was really uncontrollable. He also noticed her clothes, the white feminine shirt of the uniform was over the dark grey skirt, with the first two buttons undone and also a little wrinkled and she did not have the tie.

"What have you been doing?" He asked curiously.

"I-I was ... dancing." Hermione justified herself.

Tom blinked, not expecting it. He could have imagined several things, but Granger dancing was not one of the possibilities.

"Why am I here?" She looked out of the corner of her eye, uncertainly.

"You are my guest." He gestured to the armchair for her to sit, before sitting down in the armchair facing her. His eyes caught the modesty movement she made as she adjusted her skirt before sitting down. "Do you accept?" Asked Tom, offering to put a glass of Firewhiskey for her.

Hermione shook her hand.

"If I remember correctly, you managed to drink a glass of Firewhiskey very well."

"Desperate feelings, desperate measures." She mumbles. Hermione particularly likes sweeter drinks such as Butter Beer, but she was not an alcoholic person. However, that day, she wanted the numbness to relieve stress, but all she got was problems.

Looking to the right, specifically downstairs, she notices the difference in behaviour between Slytherins and Gryffindors.

"Your housemates don't look very happy that I'm here." She comments, this time looking around, particularly curious about the architectural details that differ from her own House. "I didn't think that was allowed; I mean, people who are outsiders. And that there was a party. We were having a party too ... kind of. "

"It is technically not allowed to have a party without something significantly commemorative that belongs to the school calendar. But, you know what? Teachers and Headmasters probably know this is the case. All houses do. " He explains. "What are you looking at so much?"

"Is different," Hermione says. "Your common room looks ... bigger."

"Didn't you come here once?" Tom remembers. Now he is looking at her with an intensity that catches her off guard and she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"I didn't have much time." She murmurs, caught in his gaze. It was as if his eyes were mesmerizing her, glowing in the purest green colour. Then she feels it, it was like a fog crawling slowly and smoothly so as not to be detected. If she weren't wise enough, she wouldn't even notice the act. "Stop what you're doing." Hermione orders.

Tom Riddle blinks a few times, the colour of his eyes remain green, but this time, less intense.

"Stop trying to read my mind."

"My mistake." He doesn't look guilty at all. "But I'm curious and much more surprised that you feel and have a barrier of Occlumency right there. What do you hide in your mind, Granger? " Tom tilts his head a little to the side.

Hermione locked her jaw and stood up, beginning to feel threatened. "If you brought me here for this, will I leave or will I -"

"What?" He questioned her before she finished the sentence. "Sit down, Granger."

Hermione was breathing faster, a little more upset and angry. They held their gaze for a while before Hermione settled in the armchair again.

 _The Gryffindor spirit_ , Tom thought. _It's like poking a lion with a short stick. They don't know how to keep their composure._

"Don't do that again." She orders.

Tom narrowed his eyes. He doesn't like to be ordained and if she thinks she will start to have power over it, then he will have to set some limits. _It doesn't work like that, Granger_. And despite being challenged, Tom knows very well how to control his impulses.

"As I said, I was just curious."

It is half true. There is a curiosity in him, he wants to know what she hides, her deepest secrets, but there is also the feeling of security that he seeks. As a talented Legilimens and with a great aptitude for this skill, he usually - sometimes even unintentionally when he was younger - read people's minds. For safety, with people who knew a lot about him, Tom read his thoughts here and there, making sure to make it clear to his Knights that it was a bad idea to lie to him.

He was kind to her, gentle, it was meant to be just a caress, just to catch the 'loud' thoughts she might be conveying, but she felt and promptly put the Occlumency barrier. Normally he was not like that, kindness and softness were not in Riddle's Legilimency dictionary, invasion and pain were. He liked to cause pain and subdue, there was a pleasure in seeing another person submit to him; then Granger could consider herself fortunate that he chose kindness for her and that she was again the X of the issue that differs from any equation. He's really trying here not to ruin what she did for him, because one thing is right, he won't go to her and say 'thanks', but she has to cooperate.

"Have you tried this with me before?"

If he ever tried to read her thoughts? Of course, just once as soon as she arrived at Hogwarts. If he tried again? No. Especially when he saw her relationship with Dumbledore. He wasn't about to invade Dumbledore's favourite student's mind and mess up the shit so they would come after a culprit, mainly because Myrtle Warren had died a few weeks earlier. It was going to be a mess and at that time he was not planning to be kind, wanting to invade Gryffindor Tower and finish her. But if there was always a desire to read her mind? Of course.

"No." He lied. She doesn't seem to believe it, but she doesn't question it either. "How do you know Occlumency?"

"How do you know Legilimency?" Hermione returns the question to him.

 _She is evasive, she always is._ Which raises Tom's suspicions. _How to answer her question_? _Is it natural for me? I was born this way? Am I talented at this? I like to be good at this?_

He snorted.

"How do we know these things?" _Yes, how do we know these things?_

She does not answer.

"Anyway, I didn't call you here to talk about this. I called you to find out your answer about my proposal. "

"About the vow?"

Tom confirms.

"It could be anything? Anything I ask for? " Hermione tests the waters with him.

"If it's within my reach. Of course. Do you remember the conditions? "

"As long as it doesn't kill you, that you don't go to Azkaban or get kicked out of Hogwarts and that it doesn't expose you in a degrading way. In addition to not telling about what I saw, heard and knew. " She repeats each of the words that Riddle used, which seems to satisfy him.

"Very well." He praises as if he were teaching a child something, it makes her a little irritated, but she lets his behaviour pass.

"What do you say?" Tom gets up and extends his hand for a handshake as if he's doing business with her. Hermione looks at the outstretched hand: _Is this wise?_ Would it be smart to accept his hand? Agree to this agreement? She looks down at her hand, hesitating and Tom notices the emotion that prevails in her expression. "You are afraid." He almost smiles. "You are afraid of me."

She looks under her lashes when she hears Riddle's comment, realizing that she is like an open book for him.

"You have your wand." Hermione murmured, this time looking at the yew wood wand with the bone-shaped handle, it _is sinister_ , that Riddle holds.

"Oh." Tom takes his wand but close to his eyes, the long, pale fingers of his left hand make way through the wood of the wand like a caress and Hermione can see the attachment and zeal he has. He looked focused on his own wand, but his gaze meets hers and he smiles in that malicious way that he has done so many times before. "Come on, Granger, I won't wait forever." Tom extends his hand to her again.

He doesn't make promises to her but makes it clear that if he wanted to curse her, he could do it.

Hermione hopes she is making the best choice for everyone when she gets up and takes his hand. He inhales when he feels the touch of her hand, joyful, proud of himself. Then he moves his wand and a bluish light connects the part of their wrist, like a chain. Startled, Hermione tries to pull her hand back, but Riddle holds on tightly.

"It is symbolic." He explains, finding her behaviour amusing. Certainly, she has no fond memories of the last time he used the wand.

Hermione steps back as soon as she could, looking at her right hand for any unusual and a suspicious look in Riddle's direction.

"Are you sure?" She asks, maybe a little harshly.

"Of course." Tom reaffirms, a little bored with her questions. This time he was being true, it was totally symbolic. If it wasn't, he was sure she would be on her knees in front of him. Well, some details are still missing here and there, but he is planning a spell that would not be just a symbol, a mark.

"I want the book you took from me." She asks.

"So is this the favour you want from me? The book?"

"I thought you could give it to me?" Hermione suggests and Tom raises an eyebrow.

"How do you have this book?"

"How do you know about the contents of this book?" She returns the question.

 _Touché._

"I believe that knowledge should have no limits; I assume you think the same thing. " _That is, if you want to take me down, I will take you with me._ But in a way, Tom Riddle likes to know there is a part of her that is free of certain chains.

Hermione is faced with a situation that she had not foreseen. Riddle would only return the book if she used the vow or maybe if she admitted what she was looking for. She found herself cornered, she couldn't use the vow. She had to save it for something more important and make him return the book spontaneously.

"Are we going to the second part?"

"What?" Hermione narrows her eyes, still holding her hand, being a little paranoid.

"The curse I put on you. I said I would take it out. Unless you liked it that much. " Tom teases.

"Are you ... are you really going to take it off?" She murmured after a while. "I tried to undo it, but I was just hurting myself ..." Hermione confesses.

"You could have really been hurt. The curse rejects anyone other than the person who cast the spell. " In a way, Tom boasts that his creation is so successful.

"What is?" She's curious about what that spell was and how to undo it.

"Is that the favour you are asking me for? That I explain to you? " He puts his hand in the front pockets of his pants.

"What? Not!" Hermione responds quickly and Tom shrugs, amused. "I thought we could have a conversation about it." She tries.

"Come, approach Granger, so I can undo the curse," Tom calls her in a gesture with his index and middle finger.

Releasing a sigh, Hermione walks towards Tom, her steps are slow from his perspective. Unconsciously Tom looks at her from the bottom to up, taking too long on every exposed part of her skin. She finally stops when she is so close to him and looks up - due to the difference in height - towards his face. Tom Riddle feels trapped in those brown eyes, where he can see the glow of fury that she hides so well, that she leaves asleep. It is precious and exciting. He takes a deep breath and with his thumb and forefinger, touch her chin. She looks down to try to see his touch on her skin, but he lifts her chin so that Hermione looks back at him.

"Your tongue." Tom murmurs and it's almost a whisper, if she didn't control herself, he would see the chill in her arms. Hermione's expression is one of surprise and confusion and she almost took a step back. _She thinks I'm going to kiss her._

Swallowing, Hermione opens her mouth, showing only the tip of her pink tongue. Tom smiles almost imperceptibly. He points the wand towards her face, at an angle so that his hand is above her head. Instinctively, Hermione has a percentage of fear running through her blood. Intelligent is the one who fears Tom Riddle. He says something in a whisper, it's so low that Hermione can't quite hear and understand.

She thought she would feel different, but only a small amount of black smoke comes out of her mouth when the curse mark dissolves. _It is over?_

Tom takes a few steps back, looking at Hermione with a strange kind of look. It was intense, but different from when he was trying to read her mind.

Suddenly, Hermione feels a pang in the pit of her stomach as if she's been punched. She places both hands on her abdomen, in a gesture of peace for her pain, but she feels the sting again. Then, she is short of breath, trying to breathe as if she is choking on something. Hermione felt something move inside her and was moving up her oesophagus towards her throat. She coughs a few times, now breathing faster, while she gasps as if she wants to vomit. Her legs are shaking and she finds herself on her knees, spreading her hands on the floor, trying hard to vomit whatever was going up to her throat. She coughs a few more times and feels the scaly skin sliding at the beginning of her throat, going towards her mouth. In her peripheral vision, she realizes that the veins in her hands - which are usually greenish - were dark in colour.

A snake, it was a snake that was coming out of her mouth. Startled, Hermione vomits the rest of the snake on the floor. _Al_ _ive! That thing was alive!_

The little black snake hissed, before turning to black smoke. Hermione coughs, trying to clear her throat as she runs the back of her right hand through her mouth, she looks at Tom Riddle who was passive, with his hands in his pants pockets. There she was, on the floor in front of Riddle.

Taking deep breaths, Hermione looks at her hands, but her veins were back to normal colour.

"Here," Tom said. There is a glass of wine offered for her. "It will get better."

With shaking hands, she takes the glass and stands up slowly.

"You were going to kill me. This thing would kill me from the inside out. " _Was that always inside me?_ The curse would not only necrotize her mouth, but it would also kill her.

"I took it out, didn't I?" There is no justification for it other than that. "I couldn't do anything about the rest." He said, referring to the moment she just passed. "The curse was not meant to be painless. On the contrary."

"Is there anything else I need to know?" She asks angrily.

"No," Tom speaks simply, sitting on the chair again. "You will feel better if you drink."

"How do I know it won't try to kill me too?" Hermione looks at the cup.

"My methods are ... Different. I like to catch my enemies off guard -" He raises his glass to his lips, drinking the sweet wine. How did he get there? To talk almost freely about methods and death with her? "- like when I kissed you."

Hermione stops drinking as soon as she hears his comment. "What? That was not a kiss! "

Tom frowned at her refusal. "Oh, please specify, because, by definition, a kiss is when two people touch their lips. Don't tell me it was your first kiss, Granger? " He disdained.

"It wasn't my first kiss!" She screamed and Tom's hand tightened on one arm of the chair. "And it was not a kiss. That was you putting a curse on me and a kiss is ... something else. " Hermione ended the sentence by mumbling, ashamed of the direction the conversation was taking.

"Oh." Tom tilts his head. "So what would it be?"

"It is not obvious? Sometimes it's love. " Hermione replied and Tom laughed at the idea, from his perspective, naive. Calling her a fool without having to say the words. "Or it happens when two people like each other." She runs a hand over her neck, a little embarrassed. "And you don't like me." This time she said it with the utmost certainty.

How could she be so sure?

"Who was the lucky guy?" It is understood that he is referring to who was her first kiss.

"Someone special." She responds cryptically, not giving him the pleasure of belittling the little experience she had, while looking at the glass of wine. And it had indeed been special. Viktor Krum was special to her and always would be. He had been the first boy to see femininity in her and that was special. Someone had seen her more than Know-it-All and noticed the physical changes that could be imperceptible, sometimes inconvenient even for her.

 _Could it be someone from here?_ Tom doubts this, she has very little time at Hogwarts. Probably someone from the past that she refuses to talk to. This bothers him more than he lets himself in, ignoring mainly because he perceives her cheeks to be pink. She moves around, a little restless and bites her bottom lip, the more he looks at her, the more he feels strange. The sight of her a few moments ago, so close to him, suddenly appears in his mind and he feels a tug in the pubic area.

 _Uh-oh. This is not happening,_ he thinks as he crosses his legs and settles in the chair.

Their conversation is interrupted when a child's cry is heard by everyone. Hermione and Tom get up when a girl runs down the stairs while shaking her head to get worms and wasps out of her hair. On the bottom step, the girl stumbles and falls in front of the whole Slytherin House. They all laugh at her, without a hint of conscience or benevolence. The girl sucks in the air several times and starts to cry, feeling the worms stuck in her hair, while she is dressed in the new bunny pyjamas she got from her mother.

The girl was Evelyn Muggle-born Slytherin. Evelyn Thomas wept even more, when she noticed the group of girls coming down the stairs, even Nott and Dolohov with the new Slytherin students.

Araminta joined Walburga and Lucretia Black who was accompanied by Virginia Flint and Wanda Yaxley. In front of them were the new Slytherin girls, one of whom was Druella Rosier.

"It's your turn, Druella. She's a mudblood. Show her her place. " Araminta murmured when the Common Room was silent.

Druella, who was dressed in her pyjamas, which was a long dress with green ruffled sleeves, looked at her older brother. Seeking some help or maybe approval.

"Druella-"

Rosier quoted her name, but his sentence was cut off when Walburga placed both hands on her shoulder.

"She belongs to the Black family now. In the future, it will only be official." Walburga said. "You know what to do, don't you, Druella? I chose you."

Druella looked at Cygnus who looked down and smiled a little, that's when Druella got all the approval she needed. She raises her wand and casts the wasp spell.

"A mudblood must not be in our House." It was a girl's voice. An even sweet and certainly childish voice that was saying those cruel words.

Hermione was horrified by what she was seeing. Children were torturing another child. She knew that she had to do something to help, so, she ran down the stairs, leaving Tom Riddle behind, who drank a sip of wine while watching the scene from above with morbid amusement. Knowing very well what Granger's reaction would be, after all, all these days, he was studying her.

Hermione passed Nott and Dolohov with the wand already in hand and placed herself in front of the girl.

"Depulso!" She shooed the wasps, throwing them away. The movement of her hand felt like she was manoeuvring a whip, but the spell had worked. She never made a mistake when she wanted to cast a spell.

Druella winced at the strength of Hermione's magic.

"What is your problem !?" She asked. Evelyn clung to Hermione's skirt.

"What is she doing here?" Dolohov growled, taking a step towards her and Hermione pointed her wand at him.

"Stay away."

The snakes hissed.

"Who do you think you are?" Walburga sawed her teeth and Hermione now pointed her wand at her.

She was disgusted by their behaviour.

"You disgust me." She said to Walburga, who was also pointing her wand at her. Araminta and Lucretia also had their wands in hand, as did Nott and Dolohov.

"Hermione, put your wand down." Alphard put his hand on Hermione's wrist.

"Do you agree with that? She is a child!"

"Put your wand down, Hermione! She is my sister! "

"Is that what you choose?" Hermione asked Alphard. How could he find that right? How could he choose his family even though they were wrong, that it was a child they were torturing.

"I always choose my family," Alphard replies, much more seriously than she has ever seen him. Her breath hitched when she heard his response. Walburga smiled at Alphard's reply, confident. "Put the wand down, you're not going to get out of here well."

Hermione grunted.

"Do you want to bet?"

She would fight with them. She had done this before when they were more experienced in dark magic, but now it was she who was the most experienced. She was going to do it, **she had to do it** and she did it. The tip of her wand flashed when the unspoken spell threw Walburga against the stairs, it was an Expulso. The girl shakes behind Hermione, Druella takes Cygnus's hand and grabs his arm, Araminta tries to hit Hermione, who protects herself with a Protego. Walburga was about to cast a spell, but Hermione casts a Stupefy. She stopped when Alphard pointed his wand at her, Malfoy and Rosier too.

It is at this point that Tom Riddle chooses to go down the stairs slowly, his hands in his pants pockets. He stops in the middle of the confusion, in front of Hermione.

"I think it's better if we all go to sleep. We are a little excited and the morning will be a long day. " He says calmly as if he's talking about the weather. Students understand that it is time to retire, walking quickly to the dorms. "Except you."

Whoever was involved in the situation knew that they should stay. There was no need to say names explicitly. Hermione feels Evelyn press her forehead against her, shaking. When only she, Evelyn, the gang of Riddle, Walburga, Araminta, Orion, Cygnus and Druella remains, Hermione knows that things will get worse. She would continue to fight, but her biggest concern was going against Riddle.

The music has stopped, the silence is hard and tense.

"Stop this." She asks.

Tom's expression is calm, he taps his index finger against his chin, pretending to be thinking, then he looks at her.

"Is that what you're asking me for?" Tom asks.

 **He was going to make her choose**. He would not let it pass, after all, he had planned this moment. When the Muggle-born girl was classified for the Slytherin House, he knew what his housemates would do to her. What Walburga and the other girls are going to do. Slytherin House really works as a sponsorship, where older students choose new students. The system is very simple indeed, exchanging favours and covering up lies in return, the new student who is chosen is also under the protection of the one who chose it and thus, as adults, the possible union of families and privileges - often in the Ministry of Magic. - makes it a vicious circle.

Walburga had chosen Druella Rosier and Druella had gone through her initiation, nothing better than to judge the Muggle-born girl. And Tom knew that Hermione had a soft heart for those who could not defend themselves, just as he knew that Alphard would choose his family.

 _Blacks always protect themselves._

Hermione was divided, she couldn't lose that vow. She needed this to protect Harry, however, she felt the girl trembling with fear behind her and she found herself in that girl. Because if it were her, she would also be terrified of being there. Hermione looked at Alphard, still not understanding him. _How could he?_

She looked down and did what her heart asked, nodding.

"You can go," Tom said.

Suspicious, Hermione looked at him and took the girl's hand. She took a step, just testing the truth of his words. _Was it that simple?_

"You can't be serious, Riddle!" Walburga grunted in exasperation.

Riddle turned his head towards her.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion."

Now, that was cold. Hermione didn't need a second warning, she left the Slytherin Common Room with Evelyn Thomas in a hurry, leaving them to kill themselves.

As soon as Hermione was gone, Tom crossed his arms.

"Now, what am I supposed to do with you, Walburga?" He spoke, his voice cold and calculating.

"She started it! She shouldn't even be here! "

"Shut up, Walburga," Alphard grunted, very angry with his sister. He looked at the little brother who watched the whole scene, impassive. He didn't want his brother's first night at Hogwarts to be like this.

"Alphard, how about you fix your sister."

"What?" Alphard choked on his sentence and Walburga froze inside. Lestrange smiled sadistically.

"Riddle." Orion Black stepped in, placing a hand on Walburga's shoulder. "She is a girl."

Tom frowned in confusion, not understanding what Orion was getting at. She was a girl, so what? He snorted.

"There is no gender privilege here, Orion," Tom replied. "When I get back, I hope to have results, Alphard." There was a 'Or' suspended in the air.

He stopped in front of Cygnus, who did not seem surprised, elated or touched by the brothers. Druella was clinging tightly to his arm, but Cygnus didn't care, after all, she would be his wife in the future. At least, that's what was announced at his big birthday party. Cygnus looked at Tom, there was no fear there, just curiosity and Tom found it interesting.

"Your brothers -" Tom was not going to console Cygnus, quite the contrary. But he was surprised by an unexpected response.

"I don't care," Cygnus said, Druella squeezed his arm even tighter. Tom smiled.

"You know ... I choose you." Tom said, to Alphard's terror.

Malfoy, Lestrange, Mulciber, Nott, Dolohov and Avery pass through Cygnus.

"Congratulations, Black." Lestrange taps a finger on Cygnus's forehead, making others laugh, as they walk into the boy's dorm.

"You know what you have to do, Alphard," Tom remembers. _You either do it or I do it._

Unlike his gang, Tom goes after Hermione and they all leave Alphard, Araminta, Walburga, Orion, Cygnus and Druella there.

 _Because, the Blacks protect themselves_. They think, at the same time as Alphard, grudgingly cast the Silencio spell on his sister. So that no one could hears the screams.

* * *

 **-Aipysurus Duboisii, also known as Dubois sea snake. The thirteenth most poisonous snake in the world.**

 **Autor Note:**

 **1) Araminta Melifua Black. - The surname of Araminta, who is a c cited by Sirius Black, is Black. However, she does not appear in any family tree of the Black family, but Sirius claims that she was his mother's cousin; Walburga**

 **There are only two ways that Araminta is a cousin of Walburga. Araminta is a descendant of Walburga's grandfather, Cygnus II Black. Walburga is the daughter of her eldest son, Pollux, who had three younger siblings: Cassiopeia, who never married, Marius, who was disowned for being an squib, and Dorea who married Charlus Potter and had a son. It is unlikely that the child of an squib will promote muggle hunting or be recognized by the Black family, so Araminta may be an illegitimate son of Cassiopeia or Dorea. In that case, she would have been left out of the auctioned family tree to avoid the illegitimacy scandal.**

 **Or**

 **She is the daughter of Charis Crouch, neé Black, who is the mother of Bartemius Crouch and two other girls. One of them may be Araminta, who prefers to use her mother's Black name, making her a cousin as Sirius said.**

 **2)What about this chapter? I'm happy but I'm not. Bleh. I think the chapter needed something more. Tell me what you think, because I don't even know anymore.**


End file.
